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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130094">Frenemies With Benefits</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceLuffy/pseuds/PrinceLuffy'>PrinceLuffy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Office (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Dwight Schrute, Bisexual Jim Halpert, D/s undertones, Dwight never dated Angela, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Jim is over Pam, Jim never went to Stamford, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Set Sometime Between S1-S3, Top Jim, bottom dwight, fwb to lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:09:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130094</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceLuffy/pseuds/PrinceLuffy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A row takes an unexpected sexual turn. The event sparks Jim and Dwight to enter a FWB arrangement that quickly becomes complicated by feelings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jim Halpert/Dwight Schrute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>167</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story takes place on an alternative timeline.</p><p>In this timeline, Jim managed to get over his crush on Pam and never left Scranton. Meanwhile, Dwight and Angela never dated. Totally irrelevant to the plot of this story, but Pam did choose to call of her wedding with Roy, but she does not want to date anyone else because she has not been single in over a decade and wants to decide who she is and what she wants out of life.</p><p>I really love comments. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jim and Dwight have a fight. It does not go as expected.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jim had been having one a hell of a day.</p><p>First, he had slept through his alarm, meaning that he’d had barely had enough time to shower, running out of the door into the brisk, fall morning with soggy hair plastered to his forehead. He snatched one of his roommate’s disgusting power bars for breakfast. It tasted like chalk dipped in chocolate and was so hard he nearly cracked a tooth on it.</p><p>Traffic had been an absolute nightmare, forcing him to forgo his usual morning coffee, which meant that he was on edge, exhausted and irritated.</p><p>When he finally got into the office, Jim had barely slid his messenger bag off of his shoulder before Pam bombarded him with tons of messages. It seemed that somehow two of his clients’ orders had been inverted in the warehouse resulting in each company receiving the other’s order, and both of them were frothing at the mouth over the mix-up.</p><p>Jim pinched his nose in irritation and started dialing the number for his first client. He trapped the receiver between his shoulder and cheek, shrugging out of his blazer.</p><p>“Seems like you screwed up.” Dwight taunted him and Jim shot him a pointed glare but said nothing in retort. Instead, he slipped seamlessly into his customer service voice, although the discontented expression on his face did not falter.</p><p>Dwight spent the rest of the morning working every last one of Jim’s nerves until he could feel his right eye twitching in agitation. He could not understand how one singular person could be so maddening. He considered him to be the human equivalent chewing on steel wool. Jim had no clue how Dwight could get under his skin so easily, like an infection spreading through his bloodstream. Today was markedly worse than usual, but Jim was too preoccupied with untangling the work issue to orchestrate a prank on his infuriating co-worker in order to alleviate the tension, allowing his anger to fester like a diseased wound.</p><p>Around midday, he’d had more than enough of Dwight’s behavior, his irritation mounting into a boiling rage, hurtling toward the breaking point.</p><p>When he finally finished unraveling the delivery mishap, Jim decided that it was time that he and Dwight had a little <em>talk</em>. He knew that he should be planning some ridiculous, inane trick to mess with his exasperating deskmate, but he was beyond that. He was <em>pissed</em>.</p><p>Jim caught Dwight when he was making his way back to his desk from the water cooler. He seized the older man by the wrist. “I need to speak with you.” Jim said, lowly. Dwight scoffed, trying to shrug him off, but Jim tightened his grip, his fingers digging into the tender skin and Dwight couldn’t pull away. Dwight gave him a goggle-eyed, deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, allowing Jim to drag him into the empty conference room.</p><p>Jim moved quickly, swiftly locking the door behind them and shuttering the windows to avoid any prying eyes or cameras.</p><p>Dwight watched this display with a mounting sense of unease. He was aware that he had been needling at Jim all day for a warehouse error that honestly wasn’t under his control, but that’s just how they were, wasn’t it? Antagonistic. Competitive. So, the older man drew from previous experience and responded to Jim the only way he knew how: by antagonizing him.</p><p>He placed his hands on his hips, cocking one arrogantly. “What’s wrong, Halpert?” Dwight goaded. “Do you need someone older and wiser to remind you of how to do your job?” he snarked.</p><p>Jim balled his hands into fists, his nails cutting into his palm. He spun on his heel, turning to face him and Dwight’s words caught in his throat. Jim was glaring at him darkly, his thick brows knitted in anger. His ferocious emerald eyes were searing, slicing through Dwight like a knife through butter and his anxiety continued to grow. </p><p>The younger man pulled himself up to his full height, squaring his shoulders, and although there was no more than an inch difference between them, Dwight suddenly felt as though he was only a few feet tall.</p><p>When Jim strode towards him, Dwight stumbled backward, maneuvering around him, trying to make his way to the door. “What’s with you today?” the younger man snapped viciously and Dwight flinched as though he had been hit.</p><p>Still, he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut. “I’m not the one who screwed up.” Dwight replied snottily, trying to provoke Jim into their usual rapport.</p><p>Jim grabbed Dwight’s wrists, slamming his back into the wooden door and he yelped like a puppy that had been kicked. He looked up at Jim’s eyes and was quailed by the intensity of his gaze.</p><p>“What the fuck is your damage, Dwight?” Jim snarled, sounding more like a feral dog than the docile layabout Dwight was accustomed to. His words stuck in his throat like molasses, which only served to earn him a venomous glare from his younger co-worker. “I haven’t done shit to you today!” he spat, the lines in his forehead deepening in frustration. His eyes were filled with pure, untapped fury. “Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”</p><p>Dwight frantically searched his brain for a response, but he was unable to produce an answer, only managing an awkward squawk in reply. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. This wasn’t how they played the game. Jim wasn’t supposed to get <em>mad</em>. Jim didn’t get mad. Jim could be irked, he could be perturbed, annoyed, or irritated, but never actually mad.</p><p>Dwight was suddenly overcome with a wave of conflicting emotions. He was utterly terrified, glued to the spot by the ferocity of Jim’s sage-eyed gaze. It was dominant, arresting. Dwight was horrified when realized that for some ungodly reason, his co-worker’s angry glare was turning him on.</p><p>Dwight had never been attracted to another man before, especially not Jim fucking Halpert, but there was no denying the telltale twitch in his dick as it thickened with blood. He tried to wrench out of Jim’s grasp, only to find himself helplessly pinned to the wall by Jim’s iron grip. He stared up at his vexing deskmate, bright, cornflower blue eyes wide behind his glasses.</p><p>Jim leaned in closer, his breath was hot as it glided along Dwight’s cheeks. He felt dizzy, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. When Jim squeezed his wrists again, Dwight let out a desperate, unmistakably sexual, mewl that startled him as much as it did the man pinning him to the wall. Jim leaned backward slightly, his eyes traveling down his deskmate’s body to settle on the swell at the front of his slacks.</p><p>Dwight studied Jim’s expression closely, a knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He could hear his breathing speeding up as he started to panic, his heart hammering erratically against his chest. Everything that he had learned in his karate classes suddenly leaked out of his ears and he was totally helpless.</p><p>The younger man’s eyebrows soared to his hairline with interest. His feral expression had smoothed out into one of indifferent observation. Despite this, his aura was still intimidating. His emerald eyes glinted in the fluorescent light of the conference room, positively predatory. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face and Dwight felt a jet of iced water zip down his spine, but his cock remained hard as a rock, almost painfully so.</p><p>“Oh, Dwight.” Jim smirked, his voice low and huskier than usual. “I didn’t know that you felt <em>that way</em> about me.”</p><p>Dwight’s brain finally caught up to his mouth and he spluttered his dissent, his face splotched with red. He looked desperate and utterly humiliated.</p><p>Without speaking, his grin never wavering, Jim reached down, wrapping his fingers around the outline of the older man’s erection and he squeezed him gently, but possessively. Dwight released a low moan from deep in his throat, reflexively grinding his hardness into Jim’s hand. He sputtered, blushing darkly, utterly humiliated by his body’s reaction.</p><p>Jim chuckled darkly. “That’s what all this is about, isn’t it?” he leaned forward, their noses nearly brushing against one another and Dwight swallowed hard, his throat clicking. “You <em>want</em> me. You act like such a little prick so that I’ll put you in your place.” Jim sneered, grabbing Dwight’s straining erection again for emphasis, causing Dwight to huff out a breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding.</p><p>Dwight wanted to protest. He wanted to punch Jim in the gut for even suggesting that he would submit to anyone sexually, let alone his sworn enemy; but he couldn’t deny that he was incredibly turned on. Dwight couldn’t remember ever being this hard in his life. His cock was trembling, aching with the need to be touched.</p><p>He met Jim’s gaze, tears beginning to form at the corners of his crystal-blue eyes, magnified behind the lenses of his glasses. Jim hesitated for a moment, staring at him with hungry eyes before letting go of Dwight’s wrists and bracing his arm against the wall. The tousle-haired brunette swooped downward, pressing his lips to the other man’s.</p><p>Dwight’s brain short circuited.</p><p>Jim’s lips were soft and poufy, like marshmallows. The mixed scent of coffee and woodsy soap filled his nose. Dwight’s back was stiff as a rod. His arms were covered in goosebumps and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Jim prodded against his lips with his tongue and Dwight parted his lips instinctively, allowing him entry. The younger man quickly took control of the kiss, winding his tongue around Dwight’s with expert grace.</p><p>His eyes fluttered shut and he reached out to grip the bottom of Jim’s white button-down shirt. They started slowly, exploring each other’s mouths with gusto. Jim’s hand drifted away from Dwight’s erection, moving to softly caress the outline of his jaw. He caught Dwight’s lower lip with his teeth and nibbled at it gently, enjoying the needy mewl that he drew from his co-worker.</p><p>Their kissing grew to a feverish pace. Dwight threaded his fingers through Jim’s messy, birch colored hair, gently tugging. The make-out started to turn bruising, a flurry of hands and fingers ripping and scratching at clothing and skin. Jim latched his mouth onto Dwight’s neck, licking and nipping at the skin.</p><p>He pushed Dwight’s back into the wall and roughly grabbed at his belt, pulling it free. Jim’s hands slipped beneath the waistband of Dwight’s slacks and forced them down, releasing his cock.</p><p>Dwight was so hard that it hurt. His dick blushed an angry red, a thick trail of precum leaking from the tip. Jim captured his wrists again, pinning them above his head. He leaned forward, breath hot on the shell of Dwight’s ear, making him shiver. “Beg,”</p><p>Every fiber of his being fought against submitting to Jim Halpert. He despised the idea of allowing Jim to pull one over on him, to control him in any way, but his body betrayed his need. He panted with desire, rolling his hips uselessly. Jim held his gaze, patiently waiting for his deskmate to say the words he wanted to hear.</p><p>Dwight gnawed at his bottom lip anxiously for a few moments before finally giving in to his lust. “Please Jim,” he pleaded, his voice coming out in a pathetic whimper. “For the love of God, Jim. Touch me.”</p><p>Jim gave him a cocky smirk, reaching his hand down and wrapping his fingers around the pulsating shaft and Dwight groaned wantonly, tossing his head back against the wall. The younger man stroked him slowly, squeezing the head as he ran his hand over it, earning another throaty moan. His pace was tortuously slow at first, dragging the velvety skin on Dwight’s cock with an expertise that made the older man wonder if he was familiar with driving men to madness with a flick of his wrist.</p><p>Jim increased the pace of his strokes and marveled at Dwight’s reactions. Since his youth, Jim had always enjoyed taking charge in his amorous interactions. There was a little edge inside of him, an itch that made him want to possess his lovers, to watch them come undone in his hand and beg for the privilege.</p><p>Dwight was not what most people would call conventionally attractive. He was tall, but lanky, and a little doughy around the middle. He dressed like a substitute teacher and was a huge pain in the ass, but Jim thought that in that moment he looked sexy as hell.</p><p>His faced was flushed and he was panting harshly, looking at Jim with single-minded lust. Dwight’s short, cropped hair was sticking up haphazardly and his lips were pink and swollen from the intensity of their kisses. He looked absolutely wrecked and Jim felt an unexpected rush of pride, knowing that <em>he</em> was the one who had made his stodgy, uptight co-worker melt in his hands. He wanted to see Dwight lose control and he wanted him to know that he -- Jim Halpert -- was the one who had done it.</p><p>“J-Jim, I’m gonna--” Dwight whimpered desperately.</p><p>Jim licked a long stripe down the length of Dwight’s neck and murmured, “Go ahead.” At his command, Dwight bit into Jim's shoulder and allowed himself to let go with a stifled moan, hot cum dripping through Jim’s fingers. The older man’s legs gave out, but Jim managed to catch him by the waist before he fell to his knees, dragging him back to his feet. Dwight clung to him like a life raft.</p><p>When Dwight finally regained his footing, Jim released him. He strode over to the conference table and grabbed a few tissues to clean up the mess on his hands while Dwight composed himself. “Get on your knees.” Jim ordered him without looking at him and Dwight dropped to the ground without a word, blushing hotly, befuddled by his own instantaneous submission. Jim smirked. <em>Oh, this would be fun.</em></p><p>Jim walked back over to Dwight, prowling around his deskmate like a predator cornering his prey. He towered over his co-worker, peering down at him with a rush of satisfaction. Finally, he had really gotten Dwight good. Jim couldn’t conceal a wolfish grin as he observed the obedient, lascivious expression on his exasperating co-worker’s face. “I want you to use your mouth.” he told him, gesturing to the crotch of his pants, housing an obvious erection.</p><p>The prostrate man reached toward him with trembling fingers, fumbling to loosen his belt. He undid the button on his slacks and tugged the zipper down slowly. Jim watched with heightening arousal as Dwight pulled his manhood out of his pants. He studied the subtle changes in Dwight’s expression as he grasped Jim’s stiff member, studying it intently, his blue eyes glittering. Hesitantly, he wrapped his lips around the head, gently working his way down the shaft.</p><p>Jim had expected Dwight to be inexperienced and he recognized that he was extremely turned on by the idea of being his introduction to the world of men. “Use your tongue,” the chestnut haired man coached, reaching down to place his hand on the back of the older man’s head, guiding his movements. Dwight did as he was bid, swirling his tongue around the head of Jim’s cock, lapping up his salty precum. Jim threaded his fingers in Dwight’s short hair, tugging at it gently, causing Dwight to let out a groan. He inhaled sharply through his nose at the sound.</p><p>“That’s good, Dwight.” Jim complimented, mesmerized by the surprisingly sexy sight of his cock in his annoying co-worker’s mouth. “Use your hand if you can’t fit it all your mouth.” the younger man instructed, his voice was husky with a blend of lust and power. The bespectacled man hummed his understanding, sending a jolt of pleasure down the length of Jim’s dick.</p><p>Dwight wrapped his hand around the younger man’s shaft, which was already slick with his own spit, jerking him in tandem with the movements of his mouth. His brain filled with static and all he could focus on was the feel of Jim’s dick, heavy on his tongue, and the sensation of his fingers tugging at his hair. In that moment, it felt like his only purpose in life was to make Jim cum.</p><p>Every time that Jim instructed him or praised him, it sent an electric pulse of pleasure down Dwight’s spine, directly to his penis, which was still hard and heavy between his legs. How had this entire interaction ended with him on his knees, his arch-rival’s hard-on pulsing in his mouth? And why was he so alright with the entire situation?</p><p>“Keep that up, Dwight.” Jim growled in approval. Dwight could feel Jim’s cock twitching as his impending orgasm approached. Jim reached down with both hands, holding Dwight’s head in place as he thrusted roughly into his mouth, exploding down his throat with a low satisfied moan. He watched in arousal as Dwight swallowed as much of his cum as he could manage.</p><p>Jim pulled his softening member out of Dwight’s mouth and tucked it back into his slacks. He watched the older man struggling to get to his feet, dazed.</p><p>Jim felt a sudden wave of panic wash over him as the reality of the situation hit him all at once. He went to Dwight, helping him stand up. He had been pretty rough with Dwight and now that the adrenaline was beginning to wane, he did not know how the other man was going to react to what they had just done. He might punch Jim in the face, which wouldn’t be entirely unwarranted. To his surprise, Dwight fell into him, wrapping his arms around Jim’s slender waist and burying his face in his shoulder.</p><p>He reached up to tentatively stroke his co-worker’s hair and Dwight expelled a satisfied sigh, nuzzling his shoulder. He pulled back in order to look Jim in the eye, his cheeks were still flushed pink. “Um--” he began, clearly embarrassed. “Could you--? Can we--?” the dark-haired man struggled, flailing a little. Jim realized what he was trying to say and couldn’t stop himself from smirking, quirking his eyebrow in interest.</p><p>“You want to do this again, don’t you?” he replied, playfully, unable to mask the glee that seeped into his voice. Jim was going to thoroughly enjoy corrupting Dwight.</p><p>Dwight nodded, smiling sheepishly. His little smile was actually adorable and Jim felt his heart skip a beat. He tipped Dwight’s chin upward and kissed him again, swallowing the lascivious little moan that escaped him. Jim broke the kiss. “If I get to keep seeing you like this?” he said, pressing a small peck into his cheek. “Then I think that we can arrange something.”</p><p>***</p><p>“So, how do you want to go about this?” Jim inquired, his eyebrow quirking as he lifted his intense, sage-colored gaze to meet Dwight’s across the small, plastic table.</p><p>The two of them had met up at a pizzeria in Dunmore that Saturday -- at Dwight’s insistence -- to discuss the proposal that he had made in the conference room. They were tucked away in a small, two person booth near the back of the restaurant. A medium pepperoni pizza sat on the table between them, partially eaten.</p><p>Dwight took a bite of his pizza, chewing slowly as he considered his answer.</p><p>Jim observed the man sitting across from him with mild interest. Dwight’s weekend clothes were a sharp contrast to his typical day-to-day attire. A part of Jim had always just assumed that his uptight co-worker wore nerdy short sleeved button-down shirts in dull colors and unflattering dockers around the clock. Instead, he was sporting a black graphic tee shirt for a band that Jim had never heard of and a pair of loose fitting cargo pants. On his feet he was wearing a pair of novelty socks tucked into a pair of brown Birkenstocks. He still looked nerdy as hell, but it was a completely different flavor of nerd than the one Jim had predicted.</p><p>Dwight swallowed his mouthful of pizza before speaking, “Well, to be honest with you, this is all kind of new to me,” he admitted. Dwight was not entirely sure why he was pursuing this. When he had gotten back to the farm that evening after Jim and his impromptu copulation session in the conference room, he had drifted through his entire nightly routine on auto-pilot, it wasn’t until his head hit the pillow that night that the weight of what had happened that day came crashing down around him.</p><p>He had given Jim Halpert a blow job. He had nearly triggered their first ever physical altercation and instead of his karate moves kicking in automatically, as he had always predicted they would, he had been quailed beneath Jim’s fury and even more embarrassingly, he had been completely turned on by it. Dwight could not remember the last time that he had been so ridiculously horny. He considered himself a rational, down-to-earth person, but the moment that Jim had kissed him all logical thought had disintegrated and Dwight’s brain had turned into jelly.</p><p>At first, Dwight thought that he had been so overwhelmed by his own hormones that he had just blurted out thoughtlessly that he had wanted to continue their dalliance. He figured that after the initial rush had worn off, he wouldn’t consider what had occurred between himself and his arch-rival anything more than a mistake, a footnote in his life. Dwight was sure that Jim would do the same. He couldn’t imagine that the younger man would be willing to advertise the fact that the two of them had hooked up to the rest of the office, given that he made a second career out of harassing Dwight. The problem was that he was still lying awake at two o’ clock in the morning thinking about his frustrating deskmate’s lips and how very soft they had felt pressed against his own. Ultimately, he had ended up contacting Jim and asking him to meet up at a discreet location, away from meddling co-workers or cameras in order to make a proposition that was so outlandish he could barely believe that he conceived of it.</p><p>Dwight was still struggling to wrap his brain around the entire situation. He wasn’t gay, or at least he didn’t <em>think</em> that he was, but there was no denying that he had been unquestionably attracted to another man. Dwight was surprised to discover that he was not as uncomfortable with the notion of being intimate with a man as he had thought he would be. Although there was a part of him that was slightly worried about the fate of the Schrute lineage if he did not reproduce.</p><p>No, what was really making Dwight climb the wall was that it was <em>Jim Halpert </em>that was making him feel this way. His lackadaisical co-worker had been a thorn in his side since the first day they had worked together. Jim was a vexatious, sarcastic layabout who lacked discipline, the antithesis to everything that Dwight considered himself to be. Jim never applied himself at work and still managed to slide by on his conventional good looks and natural charisma, easily building a rapport with clients on his charm alone.</p><p>Yet, all of that had simply fled his mind the instant that Jim’s talented hands had touched him. It was as if something he hadn’t realized was inside of him had suddenly been ignited and he had become engulfed in its flames before he even caught a whiff of the smoke.</p><p>Dwight was positive that Jim would never want to pursue an actual relationship with him, which was fine with Dwight, since he had zero desire to <em>date</em> someone like Jim, even though he honestly did want to pursue a physical relationship with his devilish deskmate. So here he was, hiding in the back of some hole-in-the-wall pizza shop, seated across from his worn enemy, about to propose a friends-with-benefits agreement to Jim Halpert.</p><p>Jim leaned across the table to grab another slice of pizza. “New to what?” he questioned. “To fooling around with a guy or being fuck buddies?” His deep pine-green eyes glinted like emeralds in the dim light of the restaurant. Dwight felt suddenly self-conscious, pinned by the soft intensity of Jim’s gaze.</p><p>“Both.” Dwight told him, fidgeting a little. He busied his anxious hands by rolling the paper from his straw into a tiny ball. “Most of the women I’ve been with have either been one night stands or someone who I was considering for a long-term mate,” the older man explained, running his fingers through his dark, thin hair. “I suppose the great Jim Halpert has engaged in intercourse with a bevy of suitors?” he sniped, rolling his eyes.</p><p>The tousle-haired brunette chuckled quietly. “It’s true that I’ve been with guys before.” Jim admitted, taking another bite of pizza. Dwight was not surprised. He couldn’t imagine that anyone could be <em>that</em> good with their hands without practice. “The majority of my relationships have been casual dating, so I’m sure that I could piece together how to be a FWB,” the younger man reassured his bespectacled co-worker. “Though I’m not quite as much of a slut as you seem to think.” Jim added wryly.</p><p>Dwight flushed a little with embarrassment. “I assume that you understand that this is nobody’s business except ours?” he inquired, quickly changing the subject.</p><p>“Yeah,” the younger man agreed. “I would rather avoid another Michael Scott seminar on diverse sexuality.” Jim said, shuddering at the mental image of their boss awkwardly forcing a kiss onto Oscar. He would rather die than put himself in a position where Michael Scott might come anywhere near his lips with his own.</p><p>Jim studied the man sitting across from him in a way that he had never really looked at him before. In the conference room, he had been so consumed by his anger and frustration with Dwight that he had been acting without thinking when he forced him against the wall.</p><p>He had been utterly shocked to discover that his stodgy, annoying deskmate was clearly aroused by the situation, by him. In that moment, something dark and wanting had pierced through his stomach like a fiery arrow, lodging itself in his guts. Jim had been overcome with a feeling of power. A strange sense of pride had welled inside him that he, Jim Halpert, could affect such lust in the likes of Dwight Schrute. It was such a heady sensation that it had made him feel almost drunk and before he knew what was happening, he was agreeing to meet Dwight at this shitty pizza joint so that they could hammer out the details of their agreement.</p><p>Jim had dated both men and women in the past. He had come across the word bisexual sometime during college and adopted it. It was not a thing that he was particularly shy about, but it also was not something that he felt the need to advertise. He had never been one to stir up needless controversy-- about himself, at least.</p><p>In many ways, Jim’s casual demeanor was a way to shield himself from getting hurt. The vast majority of his relationships had been non-committal and a tad superficial. He was slow to trust and masked it with jokes and equivocate flirtation. Jim had only been in love a couple of times, and both times he’d had his heart broken. He wasn’t the type of person to subject himself to unnecessary risk and Jim couldn’t exactly imagine himself falling head over heels for Dwight K. Schrute. So where was the harm in engaging in a casual fling?</p><p>“So, we have an understanding, then?” the older man inquired, tilting his head slightly. His blue eyes shimmered brightly in the yellowish light of the pizza joint.</p><p>Jim nodded in lieu of a verbal response, taking another bite of pizza.</p><p>They worked their way through the rest of their pizza, easily falling into amiable banter, peppered with their typical bickering. It was familiar, and without the pressures of the office around them, laid-back and amicable.</p><p>When they finished their meal, Dwight insisted that he cover the bill, as he had been the one to invite Jim out. He also had a coupon for two free soft drinks with the purchase of a single topping medium pizza that he was determined to redeem before it expired.</p><p>Jim and Dwight exited the pizzeria, walking out into the crisp autumn night. The fall air had just a bit of chill to it, a low gust of wind just barely ruffling Jim’s flyaway birch hair. He followed Dwight to his car.</p><p>The older man paused by the driver’s side door and turned to face his deskmate. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, neither of them quite sure how to proceed. Finally, Jim decided to make the first move. He placed his hand lightly on Dwight’s waist, causing the other man to jump slightly. Dwight closed his eyes expectantly and Jim could feel him trembling ever-so-slightly in anticipation.</p><p>The corners of Jim’s lips tugged upward in a small, amused smile. He found the other man’s innocence a tad endearing. The athletic brunette thought it was a little adorable that Dwight had come so wantonly in his hand a few days ago, yet he was still shivering with barely suppressed excitement waiting for a goodnight kiss.</p><p>Jim bent his neck slightly, bringing their lips together. Dwight made a little hum of approval, reaching out to grasp the bottom of Jim’s khaki jacket. The younger man peeked through his eyelashes, trying to fight back a smile when he saw the soft blush spreading across his co-worker’s round cheeks. He caught Dwight’s lower lip in between his, melding their mouths together.</p><p>After a few minutes of breathy, open mouthed kisses, Jim pulled Dwight closer to him, pressing their chests together. Jim could feel the other man’s heartbeat pounding wildly against his ribcage and he realized that his own heart was also beating loudly with mounting excitement. He wondered if Dwight had noticed.</p><p>Jim poked his tongue out slyly, gliding it along Dwight’s bottom lip. Dwight released a breathy sigh that the tousle-haired brunette took full advantage of, slipping his tongue into the other man’s mouth. He wound their tongues together, kissing him languidly. Dwight tasted like pepperoni pizza and coke. It reminded Jim of college, when he had experimented with his roommate after a few too many beers.</p><p>Jim angled his head so that he could deepen the kiss, grabbing the back of the other man’s neck and squeezing it slightly. Dwight whimpered into his mouth, a lewd, needy sound that traveled straight to his cock, which stiffened in response. He could really get used to hearing Dwight make noises like that, slutty and desperate. Dwight’s hands sailed up to Jim’s flyaway curls, threading his fingers in his soft, brown hair.</p><p>Dwight’s thoughts were beginning to turn to static again, blocking out everything else. He wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to the way that Jim’s kisses turned his mind into mush, leaving him a trembling mass of hormones. The younger man’s mouth was hot and his kisses demanding. His chestnut locks felt silky soft in Dwight’s fingers. His blood rushed rapidly from his brain towards his lower extremities.</p><p>Dwight broke the kiss, gasping for air. He opened his eyes to find Jim studying him closely, his pine-colored eyes twinkling with renewed interest, dark pupils blown out to twice their normal size. The older man let go of Jim’s hair, sliding his hands down his face and neck before settling them on his chest. “Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.” Dwight murmured, his voice low and throaty. “That’s your problem, Jim. No follow through.”</p><p>Jim smirked, his thick eyebrows rising inquisitively. “Is that so?” he asked playfully, brushing his nose against Dwight’s. One of his hands drifted downwards, grabbing the outline of Dwight’s erection through his cargo pants, pushing a gasp from his lungs. “Then we should call it a night,” the almond-haired man advised, his tone lilting as he palmed Dwight covertly through the fabric of his pants until he started to whine. Jim retracted his hand abruptly, delighting in the mournful mewl that Dwight made at the loss of contact. “I’ll see you at work on Monday, then.” Jim grinned, forcing himself to pull away from the man in his arms. He gave his new FWB a little wink before making his way back to his car, leaving Dwight standing alone in the parking lot, face flushed and breathing labored.</p><p>Jim got into his car, unable to keep a goofy grin off of his face. He couldn’t help himself, could he? Teasing Dwight was so ingrained in him that it was almost second nature. Their new arrangement added another, kinkier layer to his teasing that caused his skin to buzz with an unfamiliar excitement that made him feel giddy… and unmistakably horny. His cock was throbbing angrily, pressing uncomfortably against the fly of his jeans. It had taken Herculean strength not to finish what he had started in the parking lot, but ultimately Jim couldn’t resist riling his deskmate up and leaving him to stew.</p><p>A naughty image of Dwight taking care of the problem himself flashed through his mind and he felt a tingle travel down his spine.</p><p>Suddenly, Jim burst into hysterical laughter.</p><p>He gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying not to crash as his body shook with relentless giggles. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the situation that he had just gotten himself into. He had just agreed to be fuck buddies with <em>Dwight K. Schrute</em>, possibly the most irritating human being on the planet, and the craziest part about the entire thing was that he was genuinely looking forward to it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, this is the first thing that I have posted in several years. As many of you are aware, my life has been less than ideal lately. I am struggling with my health and my relationships, which has left me exhausted physically and emotionally. It has been terribly difficult to find the time and motivation to write much of anything at all.</p><p>I didn't want anymore WIPs so I tried to finish and post it all in one sitting. The last chapter was delayed by my 4th proofread. This fanfic was purely self-indulgent, since as I am sure many of you know, if you fail to find a fic that fits your exact preferences, you can always write it yourself. So I did. </p><p>Sorry if it was a letdown for those of you that imagined my comeback to be something amazing, or an update to one of my other stories. I wrote this while I was hospitalized for my anaphylactic condition to distract myself. I read through it afterward and thought that it might be decent enough to share. So I edited it a little and here we are.</p><p>I hope that you enjoyed my smutty self-indulgent fic. Thanks for reading.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jim and Dwight start messing around more frequently.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That Monday, Dwight arrived at the office before Jim. He found himself filled with nervous anticipation as he waited for the other man to come into work.</p><p>When he finally had gotten back to Schrute Farms after their pizza dinner, Dwight’s entire body was still abuzz with excitement and lust. His mind filled with images of Jim, picturing all sorts of salacious activities that they might get up to. He could still feel the sensation of their lips pressed together. Jim kissed him thoroughly, with a kind of aggressive passion his female lovers in the past had rarely displayed. Jim may not have applied his talents to his work, but Dwight was quickly discovering that his former nemesis possessed a variety of other skills that he took very seriously, and when Jim applied himself, he could master almost anything that he wanted.</p><p>Jim glided into the office around ten minutes past starting time and Dwight felt his stomach twist into knots like a pretzel, his heartbeat pounding frantically against his ribcage, as if it was trying to break through the bone and burst out of his chest.</p><p>Jim hung his khaki overcoat on the coat rack by the door and wandered over to his desk. He slid off his messenger bag and slipped out of his blazer, flinging it over the back of his chair. Jim looked much the same as he did every morning, dressed in his typical uniform of a pearly white button-down shirt paired with a solid black tie, tucked into dark slacks. His fluffy, almond-colored hair was perfectly mussed, flipped up at the ends in that ridiculous little curl. Jim may have looked the same way that he did every morning, but Dwight was seeing him in a whole new light.</p><p>And much like every other morning, Jim offered Dwight a quick hello, not really looking at him, before striding over to the reception desk to engage in idle chit-chat with Pam. Unlike every other morning however, Dwight felt an unwelcome surge of jealousy that contorted his stomach into uncomfortable knots. Sure, the two of them had agreed to keep things quiet at work, but that didn’t mean that Jim could just ignore him in favor of their chipper co-worker.</p><p>“Dwight is glaring at us.” Pam informed Jim, her voice low, smirking a little. The ever observant secretary had already noticed that Dwight had been paying close attention to his deskmate’s whereabouts the entire morning. Perhaps he thought that he was being subtle, but Pam hadn’t missed the way that Dwight’s eyes kept flickering from Jim’s empty chair to the door and back. She had never seen the bespectacled man wear that expression. He didn’t look annoyed by Jim’s tardiness, instead his pale blue eyes were glinting with something akin to anticipation, maybe even excitement. Currently, he was shooting daggers at the two of them and her interest was piqued.</p><p>“Really?” Jim replied, his eyebrows rising with curiosity. He was trying his best to bite back a smile, wishing that he could see the expression on Dwight’s face himself. “I haven’t even done anything to him yet today,” he said, flashing her his patented sly grin, waggling his eyebrows mischievously.</p><p>“<em>Yet.</em>” Pam repeated, matching his smile.</p><p>“Don’t fret, Beesly.” Jim reassured her. “I’ll keep you updated,” he claimed, giving her a conspiratorial wink before spinning on his heel and strolling back towards the cluster of desks. <em>Oh, if you only knew, Pam</em>. Jim thought to himself, no longer able to keep himself from smiling.</p><p>Dwight rotated his chair quickly, grabbing the file nearest to him and flipping it open, pretending to read it. “Getting into work fifteen minutes late, Jim?” Dwight asked snootily, glaring at the papers in his hands as if they had offended him in some way. “This is why you’ll never break into the top three salesmen,” the older man added, his tone an attempt to be haughty, but the back of his neck was burning hot.</p><p>As he passed his desk, Jim bent down swiftly and whispered to him, his breath hot on Dwight’s ear. “You look cute in green, Dwight,” the chestnut-haired man told him, his amusement evident in his voice.</p><p>The bespectacled man’s face flushed hotly and he snapped, “I’m not wearing g--” Dwight began, but he petered off when he realized what Jim was implying. He clamped his mouth shut, his round cheeks ablaze. Dwight shot Jim a death glare as he watched the shaggy haired brunette flop into his desk chair, sporting a shit-eating grin. Dwight wanted to say something else, but he bit his tongue, he wasn’t about to draw attention to their conversation, lest the rest of the office become privy to their situation. Instead, he pursed his lips in frustration and went back to work, scowling at his co-worker periodically.</p><p>The day continued normally, but Dwight was on edge. Jim, on the other hand, was his usual, jovial, happy-go-lucky self, strutting around the office like he owned the place. Every so often, their eyes would lock and Jim would give him a small, knowing smile that caused Dwight’s heart to palpate wildly in his chest. Was he ever going to get used to this?</p><p>Around the middle of the day, the curly-haired receptionist rushed over to Jim’s desk as fast as her little high-heeled feet would take her. She bent down and loudly whispered to the lithe brunette, “I need your help!” she confessed, baby blue eyes wide with panic. “It’s Kevin’s birthday today and I totally forgot to pick up the cake from Baskin-Robbins and if Angela finds out she’s going to kill me.” Pam explained, picking at the end of one of the sleeves of her pale pink cardigan. “Except, there’s no way I can get away from the office because Michael wants me to help him write a roast for the party.” Pam expounded, speaking quickly enough that the words were beginning to blend together.</p><p>“Okay,” Jim agreed. “But my car is in the shop. Mark dropped me off this morning,” the lackadaisical paper salesman informed her. Pam’s face fell a little, but she recovered quickly.</p><p>“Why don’t you take my car?” Pam offered, twisting the auburn curls that hung past her shoulders around the tips of her fingers in nervous habit.</p><p>Jim shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, Beesly. Dwight will take me,” he told her, running his own fingers through his messy, chocolate-colored hair and jabbing his thumb in the direction of his uptight co-worker, who responded with an irritated squawk that made him sound like a flustered parrot.</p><p>“Jim, that’s a waste of company time.” Dwight complained, his voice whiny. The other man waved him off, getting to his feet and picking his messenger bag up off of the floor.</p><p>“Let’s hit it, Schrute.” Jim ordered, watching his stuffy deskmate expectantly. Dwight continued his rant, but he still pushed himself up to stand, snatching his jacket and pulling it on. Jim observed him in amusement, his sage-green eyes twinkling like twin emeralds in the fluorescent lights of the office.</p><p>Pam observed their interaction with growing interest. Jim usually went out of his way to avoid their pompous, irritating co-worker, but he was acting like he actually <em>wanted </em>Dwight to go with him. She would have to investigate this further, but right now time was of the essence, so she rushed over to her tall friend, shoving the receipt for the cake order into his hands.</p><p>Jim waved good-bye to Pam as he grabbed his coat off the rack and pulled it on. She watched as the mismatched pair left the office together. Dwight had still not ceased his bitching, but he followed Jim out of the door like a small puppy nipping at his heels. To his credit, Jim did not appear to be all that aggravated with the bespectacled brunette. Pam could see traces of amusement cross Jim’s comely features mixed with another emotion that she could not quite discern. Yet she noticed an impish twinkle reflected in her friend’s meadow-green gaze.</p><p>She would definitely have to keep an eye on this.</p><p>***</p><p>“Really, Jim. Why would you rope me into driving you? This isn’t really a two person job.” Dwight said, incredulously as he pulled his candy-apple red Trans-Am out onto the street and headed in the direction of the local Baskin-Robbins. Apparently, Michael had insisted that they serve ice cream cake for Kevin’s birthday since it was his favorite and Kevin’s preferences were irrelevant to him.</p><p>Jim laughed heartily as they drove up to the intersection and pulled to a stop at the sign. “Left here,” the green-eyed man directed and Dwight flipped on his blinker, looking both ways before cautiously turning onto the adjacent street.</p><p>“That doesn’t answer my question.” Dwight griped as he made a left. Jim laughed again, reaching his hand over and placing it gently on his co-worker’s thigh. Dwight stiffened, his ears blazing red with embarrassment.</p><p>“Maybe I wanted some alone time with you.” Jim said. His tone sounded teasing, but there was a huskiness to his voice that made Dwight’s heartbeat accelerate. The younger man’s hand ghosted over the crotch of his pants and his breathing quickened. Jim began palming him through the fabric of his slacks.</p><p>“Jim, I’m driving.” Dwight wheezed, gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. Jim hmm’d, gripping the other man’s stiffening member and massaging him until his cock was hard as a rock. Dwight released a breathy whine, his hips jutting upward slightly. He was doing his best to concentrate on the road, but his body was betraying his desire.</p><p>“Turn right at the light.” Jim told him, his deft fingers pulling down the zipper of Dwight’s dockers and fishing his dick out of the opening at the front of his slacks. The bespectacled man hit his blinker and turned, forcing himself to keep his eyes open as Jim began to stroke him. Dwight huffed out the other man’s name again, trying desperately to object as his erection throbbed in Jim’s talented hand, leaking precum “Another right,” the tousle-haired brunette instructed. His demeanor was totally casual, as if he was simply giving his co-worker driving directions rather than teasing him into a frenzy with his capable hand.</p><p>“Jim--” Dwight tried to protest, but his complaints morphed into a lascivious moan when Jim flicked his wrist over the head of his cock. His laidback co-worker chuckled as he continued his ministrations intermittent with his driving instructions.</p><p>Dwight exhaled a sigh of relief when the Baskin-Robbins came into view. He managed to pull into the restaurant and park the car in the space furthest from the building, giving them some semblance of privacy. As Dwight shifted the car into park, Jim removed his hand from Dwight’s pulsating shaft. “Time to get the cake,” the younger man said, flashing him a grin and moving to open the door.</p><p>Abruptly, Dwight reached out and snatched at Jim’s hand, pulling it back to his aching hard-on. “Don’t stop,” he begged, shocked by the desperation in his voice. He knew he must look a mess, red-faced and panting, but he was so turned on he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted nothing more in the moment than to keep Jim’s spectacular hand on his throbbing member.</p><p>The tall brunette smirked, wrapping his fingers around Dwight’s cock and renewing his strokes. He was starting to get really turned on as he watched his uptight co-worker’s eyes flutter shut and he expelled a satisfied sigh, leaning back into his seat. Jim’s own breathing was becoming belabored as he studied the older man’s features, a sense of power and lust flooding through him with every errant whine that he drew from Dwight’s throat.</p><p>“Fuck, Jim. I’m gonna cum.” Dwight moaned, tossing his head back against the headrest.</p><p>“Go ahead.”</p><p>Dwight groaned, muttering the other man’s name over and over as his shaft pulsated and spasmed in Jim’s fist, spurting hot cum onto his hand. When his orgasm finally subsided, the green-eyed brunette withdrew his hand and fished around Dwight’s car until he retrieved a napkin from some random fast food eatery, cleaning his deskmate’s cum off of his hand.</p><p>Jim leaned back to admire his handiwork, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observed his co-worker in post orgasmic bliss. Dwight was leaned back in his seat, boneless, with his cock still hanging out of the front of his pants. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. Jim leaned over, running the tip of his tongue along the shell of Dwight’s ear, delighting as the other man experienced a full-body shudder. “I love it when you say my name,” he murmured and Dwight tried to glare at him, but the effect was dulled by his haphazard appearance.</p><p>Finally regaining his composure, Dwight readjusted himself and tucked his penis back into slacks. He turned to look at Jim, who was still wearing a small, playful smile. Impulsively, Dwight grabbed Jim’s cheeks and yanked his face towards his own, thrusting his tongue into the younger man’s mouth, kissing him deeply, not giving a single solitary shit if anyone saw the two of them engaged in a steamy lip-lock.</p><p>Jim pulled away, his own breaths coming out in breathy gasps. “We have errands to run,” the messy-haired brunette reminded him, his deep, forest-green eyes were hooded, his gaze clearly lustful. Dwight knew that he was right, but he really wished that he could do something to make it so that Jim would keep looking at him the way he was in that moment.</p><p>“I hate it when you’re right.” Dwight complained, his lips still dangerously close to the younger man’s mouth. He released the tousle-haired brunette’s face and Jim pulled away from him, a cocky grin on his attractive face.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>***</p><p>Dwight had dropped by the party for a short amount of time before slipping out around half-way through Michael’s (hilarious) roast to make up for some of the sales calls that he had missed taxying Jim around.</p><p>He had just finished hanging up the phone when a hand slid a paper plate with a piece of ice cream cake on it onto his desk in front of him. Dwight glanced up to find Jim partially seated on the edge of his desk, his own slice of cake in his hands.</p><p>“Still gotta be number one?” Jim asked him, forking a piece of cake into his mouth. “Hmm, not bad,” he commented, chewing thoughtfully.</p><p>“Of course, I do, Jim.” Dwight scoffed, reaching forward and grabbing the plate of cake that the other man had brought him. “Not all of us are satisfied with being middle of the pack,” he sniped, taking a bite of slightly melted ice cream cake. Jim was right, it wasn’t that bad and he was usually not a fan of mint chocolate chip, even if it was Michael’s favorite. He peered up at his younger co-worker, who was looking out over the empty office in a calm silence. Dwight observed Jim in profile. It was rare to look at Jim’s face and not be able to tell exactly what he was feeling. He was always playful and smiling, hamming it up for the camera, it was rare to see him quiet and contemplative.</p><p>Dwight’s blue-eyed gaze traveled down to Jim’s hands. They were gorgeous hands, with broad palms and long, delicate fingers. Pianist fingers. He recalled vividly how those fingers had felt wrapped around him in the car. Dwight had never imagined that someone’s hands could feel so perfect, so unimaginably good. He was almost starting to get horny again, so he forced himself to drag his eyes back up to the other man’s face.</p><p>Jim had finished his plate, hopping off the edge of the desk. “I’ll get back to the party.” Jim said, “Don’t want anyone to get suspicious,” the younger man smiled at him. “Oh,”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You have something on your face.” Jim told him, catching Dwight’s chin in his fingers. He swooped down, quickly dragging his tongue along the skin next to his mouth. Dwight squeaked in surprise, his face heating up. Jim stood back up straight and gave his deskmate that same sly smile he had on his face in the car. “Better.” the brunette said, making his way back to the conference room, leaving Dwight spluttering and blushing alone in the main office, sporting an unwanted hard-on.</p><p>***</p><p>Dwight strolled into the office on Thursday morning in a bright mood, whistling to himself.</p><p>He shrugged his khaki overcoat off and hung it on the coat rack before making his way past reception and over to the cluster of desks. His whistling died off abruptly the moment that he got a good look at his desk. His big, cornflower blue eyes widened in shock and horror.</p><p>His entire area was covered in enough rose petals to have outfitted a bridal suite. The petals were bright pink, almost blinding. When Dwight approached his desk slowly, the cloying smell of roses hit his nostrils, signaling to him that they were actual flowers and not a fake reproduction.</p><p>The offending petals were scattered all over the top of his desk, covering nearly every surface, clogging his keyboard. There was a haphazard pile of them heaped on the seat of his chair and dozens more scattered on the floor around it. His screensaver had been changed to an image of a large pink rose. Every single one of his pens and pencils had been replaced with pink pens topped with fake flowers. Dwight inched closer, gap-mouthed.</p><p>A surge of anger rushed over him like a fiery wave. He did not have to think very hard to discern which person in the office had plastered his entire area with flower petals.</p><p>“What the hell happened here?” Dwight snapped, spinning on his heel in order to shoot a sharp glare at his cocky deskmate. “It looks like a David’s Bridal threw up on my desk.” he spat. Jim feigned confusion, making his big, pine-green eyes wide and innocent, but Dwight could see a glint of impish glee reflected in them. Dwight glowered at him, his eyebrows crinkling in agitation, his blue eyes icy enough to freeze.</p><p>“I have no idea.” Jim lied in most innocent of voices. “Maybe you have a secret admirer,” he said, grinning evilly.</p><p>“Jim,” he hissed his deskmate’s name through clenched teeth. “Can I please speak with you alone for a moment?” he asked, his shoulders tense. “In the stairwell?”</p><p>Jim smiled, “Sure, Dwight.”</p><p>He dragged Jim into the stairwell, yanking him down the stairs until they reached the level in between floors.</p><p>He whirled on Jim. “What the fuck, Jim?”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be pissy.” Jim cajoled, his playful smile bordering on wicked, sage eyes shimmering mischievously. He took a step towards Dwight, boxing him in against the wall. The older man flushed pink at their close proximity, but stubbornly stood his ground. He stared Jim down, icy blue eyes glinting with frustration. The younger man met his gaze easily, his smile becoming flirtatious.</p><p>“You made a mess of my desk!” Dwight insisted, squaring his shoulders, but Jim was not even fazed by his attempt to be aggressive. Jim lifted one of his hands to his lover’s face, gliding a gentle finger along the line of his jaw. He was sporting the same cocky expression that he always wore when he pulled one over on Dwight, but there was another layer to it, a hint of softness in that smug, forest-shaded gaze.</p><p>“A very adorable mess,” the messy-haired brunette contended. Dwight rolled his eyes in response.</p><p>“You’re distracting me from work!” the bespectacled man cried in exasperation.</p><p>“You need a little distraction, sometime.” Jim murmured, leaning forward so that their lips were almost grazing and Dwight could feel his lover’s breath tickling his mouth. A searing heat blossomed in Dwight’s gut. His emotions were tangled like discarded Christmas lights. He was upset with Jim, frustrated -- or at least he had been, wanted to be -- but somehow his beguiling deskmate had managed to confuse him once again. His nose filled with Jim’s scent and his thoughts were beginning to grow muddled all over again.</p><p>Jim cupped his cheek and shortened the distance between them, placing his lips over Dwight’s in a gentle kiss. He kissed the older man slowly and tenderly, with soft presses of his lips against his mouth and Dwight felt himself give in, his eyes drifting shut. Unconsciously, Dwight reached out to place his hands on the chestnut-haired man’s narrow hips, his fingers digging into Jim’s navy slacks.</p><p>Jim’s tongue darted out, swiping along the bespectacled man’s bottom lip. Dwight huffed out a quick breath, his mouth parting slightly. Jim took advantage of the opening to push his tongue into the older man’s mouth, deepening the kiss. The almond-haired man wound his tongue around his lover’s tongue, eliciting a whine from low in Dwight’s throat.</p><p>Jim pressed his body into the older man, sliding his arm around Dwight’s waist, pulling him closer. Dwight’s hands rubbed up and down the length of the younger man’s back, enjoying the warmth of his body and the firmness of his muscles beneath his powder blue work shirt. Jim’s hand traveled to the back of his head, his slender digits threading through his deskmate’s birch hair. He explored Dwight’s mouth thoroughly, investigating every nook and cranny with a fervor that sent shivers down his spine.</p><p>Jim broke the kiss, both of them panting hotly and Dwight could feel Jim’s heart pounding against his chest frantically, mingling with the sound of his own haphazard heartbeat. The older man realized that he was already erect, his hard-on straining against the front of his slacks.</p><p>Dwight’s tumultuous thoughts had quieted to a calm, pleasant buzz. It still scared him how his body reacted to Jim, that the instant that the other man kissed him, the world fell away around him and it was just the two of them, alone in a private world all their own.</p><p>Dwight had adapted quickly to the fact that he was in a sexual relationship with another man, quicker than he had expected himself to. Although he had never really considered himself attracted to men -- not that he had ever really explored the notion before Jim -- he understood conceptually that thousands of mammals engaged in homosexual behavior for sexual pleasure in the wild and he reasoned that he was really no different from any other mammal. What continued to baffle him was that he was the one who kept taking a more submissive role in their relationship. He had always considered himself to be a dominating, alpha male. In all of his previous relationships, he had been the aggressive pursuer of his partners and he still could not understand what it was about his co-worker slash arch-rival that made Dwight feel like putty in his hands.</p><p>Dwight did not have the time to ponder any further because Jim was kissing him again.</p><p>The younger man readjusted his stance, slotting his leg in between his bespectacled deskmate’s thighs, pressing up against the crotch of his slacks and he drew a harsh breath in through his nose. Jim gripped Dwight’s hips and pulled them down, grinding his erection against his thigh. A lewd moan escaped Dwight, the friction was delicious and he found himself rutting against Jim’s thigh without a second thought. The older brunette blushed darkly, humiliated by his own desperation, but he couldn’t stop himself.</p><p>The tall, tousle-haired brunette nibbled at Dwight’s bottom lip, relishing in how the other man whimpered his name in a needy whisper. Jim leaned back so that he had a better view of his secret lover’s face. Jim had quickly discovered that he really enjoyed watching Dwight’s expressions whenever they were messing around, he loved to watch as his uptight deskmate’s featured contorted in pleasure when he teased him. Dwight’s face was flushed scarlet and he had his bottom lip snagged between his teeth, trying to bite down any noises that threatened to escape. His eyes were clenched shut; dark eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He breathed heavily through his nose as he lost himself in the sensation.</p><p>Their initial encounter had come about due to an uncharacteristic burst of physical anger on his part, but as time went on, Jim found himself seeing Dwight in an entirely new light. He did not consider himself a Casanova of any sort, although he had been with his fair share of men in the past. Dwight Schrute was miles away from the type of guy that he typically went for. Yet, the more that he saw him like this -- in the throes of passion -- the more he thought Dwight was actually really sexy and wasn’t sure how he had missed it before.</p><p>Jim had always enjoyed pleasuring his partners. He got off on the control, on teasing his lovers until they were begging Jim to touch them, to get them off. His stomach twisted with white hot arousal as he observed how worked up Dwight was getting over a little heavy petting, it astounded and excited him how Dwight always seemed to react to him as if it was the first time he had ever been touched. The younger man bent forward, his steamy breath skating along Dwight’s ear as he whispered, “If you keep that up, you’re going to cum in your pants.”</p><p>Dwight’s eyes shot open and he gave Jim a desperate look, his pale blue eyes wide and glistening with tears. His lower body was still moving on instinct, grinding into Jim’s thigh. His expression was clearly conflicted, torn between his desire to cum and the urge not to humiliate himself by orgasming in his work pants. Jim dug his teeth into his own lip as he watched the internal battle happening inside of his lover’s head with enthusiasm.</p><p>In the end, Jim decided for him, forcing Dwight’s back flat against the cold, white bricked wall, and worming one of his hands in between them. Jim slid his hand underneath the other man’s waistband and wriggled it down, wrapping his slim, talented fingers around his shaft. Dwight let out a gasping breath, overwhelmed by the sensation of the younger brunette’s fingers suddenly touching his bare skin.</p><p>The slender man stroked his co-worker earnestly, acutely aware of his own heart hammering desperately against his chest in growing excitement while he watched the man in his arms careening towards orgasm. Dwight suddenly grabbed Jim’s forearms for support, fingers digging into his skin, tossing his head back against the wall as he began to cum.</p><p>A low, lascivious moan that he couldn’t stifle escaped Dwight as the weight of his orgasm hit him like a freight train to the gut. His cock twitched desperately in Jim’s fist, spurting hot ejaculate onto his lover’s hand and filling his underwear. Dwight went completely limp, his head falling backwards, whapping against the wall with a hard smack. He watched through hooded lids as Jim withdrew his hand and brought it to his mouth. His fleshy, pink tongue darted out, cleaning the evidence of his co-worker’s arousal from his slender fingers. Dwight watched him, utterly mesmerized.</p><p>“Jesus Christ.” Dwight heard himself say, his tone almost reverent. Jim gave him a wicked smile that caused Dwight’s stomach to flip over with a feeling that he did not want to dwell on.</p><p>“It’s Jim Halpert, actually,” he snarked, placing a quick peck on his deskmate’s forehead.</p><p>“Jackass,” the older man sniped as Jim pulled away from him. His younger co-worker waggled his thick eyebrows mischievously as he started to make his way back up the stairs.</p><p>“My given name.” Jim assured.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jim invites Dwight to sleep over. Lust starts to give way to genuine feelings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a little over a month since Jim Halpert had accepted Dwight Schrute’s proposal to become secret friends-with-benefits and the two of them had not had as much time to be alone, especially outside of the office, as either of them would have liked. Not that they would ever have admitted it to one another.</p><p>Over the past few weeks, there had been a palpable change in their relationship. At work, they still butted heads as usual, but occasionally Dwight would feel Jim’s hand ghost at the back of his neck, giving him a light, but possessive, squeeze. Every so often, Dwight would brush his fingers up the length of Jim’s spine as he passed him on the way to his desk. They stole glances at one another, trying to deny the magnetic pull that they both felt, but they were still drawn to each other like two planets orbiting one another.</p><p>They had been doing their best to keep their arrangement a secret and as far as they knew, no one had caught on to the carnal nature of their relationship. Of course, it would never occur to anyone in the office that two people as antagonistic towards one another as Jim and Dwight were getting off together in private. It wasn’t anyone’s business, anyway.</p><p>That Tuesday morning, Dwight had just finished using the restroom and was busy washing and drying his hands when Jim burst into the bathroom, nearly making him jump out of his skin. In an instant, Jim had grabbed Dwight’s shoulders, kissing him brusquely. He pushed Dwight forward, forcing him to stumble backwards into the handicapped stall.</p><p>The younger man broke the kiss, quickly turning to lock the door behind them before he spun back around to face his co-worker, descending on him like a rabid animal -- all lips and teeth and tongue.</p><p>Jim brought their lips back together, kissing Dwight with a fervor that took him by surprise, making his entire body buzz with excitement. Aside from their initial interaction in the conference room, Jim was typically calm and in control during their amorous engagements, but today he was filled with an unbridled intensity that sent shivers down Dwight’s spine that settled in groin. His hands were everywhere at once, touching, prodding, and pinching at Dwight and he couldn’t control the whimpers that escaped him. The almond-haired man’s hands roughly explored his deskmate’s body, pulling his tie loose and tugging his shirt open, exposing the tender skin on his neck. Jim latched onto Dwight’s pale skin, licking and sucking at his neck until it began to turn a reddish-purple, marking his territory.</p><p>The older man panted harshly, his growing erection pulsating against his leg in his suddenly too tight slacks. Jim dug his fingers into Dwight’s ass, grinding their hips together roughly, garnering a lewd moan from Dwight that he tried to bite down as best he could, on the offhand chance that someone came into the bathroom.</p><p>Jim expertly undid his partner’s belt at lightning speed, shoving his pants and underwear down to his knees with little ceremony. Dwight’s cock bobbed freely, achingly hard and dripping a string of precum. The chestnut haired man started to stroke Dwight eagerly and he immediately clenched his eyes shut, gulping down a mouthful of air, unable to stop himself from thrusting his hips into Jim’s fist. “<em>Jim</em>--” he hissed his name between clenched teeth, his hands reaching upward to grasp his broad shoulders.</p><p>Dwight started to come undone rapidly, his breathing coming out in a staccato. Jim could feel him twitching against his palm, knowing that he was nearing climax, and he released him, relishing in the piteous mewl that Dwight made at the loss of contact. He opened his eyes slowly, icy blue eyes peering up to meet Jim’s gaze. “Turn around.” Jim whispered, his voice was quiet but retained an air of dominance. “Put your hands flat against the wall.” To utter his delight, Dwight complied immediately, which sent a thrill zipping through Jim’s body. It still amazed him that Dwight Schrute could act like this: submissive, compliant, and brazenly sexual. The polar opposite of the nerdy, uptight deskmate that he was accustomed to. This Dwight was Jim’s private Dwight. A debauched, slutty Dwight that was his own dirty little secret.</p><p>Jim suckled his index finger into his mouth, coating it with a generous layer of spit. He squatted down so that he had a better view of what he was doing, gently pulling Dwight’s cheeks apart and prodding at his opening with the tip of his finger. The other man jolted slightly, but he kept his palms pressed flat against the tiled wall of the bathroom. “Is this okay?” Jim questioned. Dwight murmured his assent, his cheeks ablaze with a blend of embarrassment and arousal.</p><p>He thrust his finger into his co-worker’s tight hole. He wiggled it in deeper, prompting a low, shaky groan from Dwight. Jim pumped his finger slowly at first, enjoying the way that Dwight trembled with each push of his digit into him. Jim curled his finger, pressing it against his deskmate’s prostate and Dwight cried out, slapping his hand across his mouth to stifle the noise.</p><p>Jim stood back up, his finger still pressed inside of Dwight. He bent forward, leaning his weight against the other man’s back and licking his palm before reaching around to stroke him. The bespectacled man squeezed his eyes tightly shut, still muffling his moans with his hand. Dwight pushed his ass backward, rutting against Jim’s hand, fucking himself on his slight fingers. He angled his head so that he could whisper into the other man’s ear, “Do you like that, Dwight?” Jim inquired; his voice laced with undisguised lust. Dwight nodded vigorously, keeping his mouth covered to smother the sound of his moans.</p><p>Dwight pulled his hand away from his mouth, panting harshly. “Jim, I’m close,” he whimpered, his dick twitching in Jim’s hand as he sped towards climax.</p><p>“Cum,” Jim growled and Dwight had to clamp his hand over his mouth again as his orgasm built in his balls, which tightened as a wave of spasms overcame him. Dwight’s cum spattered onto the bathroom wall and he shook like a leaf as Jim coaxed every last drop of semen from him. He slid his finger out of him gently. He wrapped his hand around Dwight’s waist, peppering the back of his neck with little kisses as he trembled with the aftershocks of his orgasm.</p><p>When Dwight found his footing again, Jim released him and exited the stall to wash his hands while the other man cleaned up the mess he had made on the wall. After he finished putting himself back together, Dwight rushed out of the stall and over where Jim was drying his hands. It seemed as though he had calmed down and was back to his nonchalant self. “Jim,” the messy haired brunette looked up when he heard his name and Dwight lost his voice abruptly.</p><p>Had Jim always been this attractive? Logically, Dwight understood that Jim was considered conventionally good-looking, but he had never really understood what all the fuss was about. But in the harsh, fluorescent light of the office men’s room, Dwight found himself utterly transfixed by his co-worker. Although they were the same height, Dwight thought that Jim was more well-proportioned than him, with his broad shoulders and slender waist. His perfectly mussed brown hair looked gossamer soft and the color reminded Dwight of birch trees. His gaze was piercing, the same brilliant shade of green as pine needles and filled with a mischievousness that had gone from something Dwight dreaded to something that sent a wave of excitement washing over him. Jim’s lips were poufy and pink, delicate and inviting. Gorgeous.</p><p>Suddenly, Dwight remembered what he had wanted to say to his lover. He moved closer, reaching out to shyly tug at Jim’s waistband.</p><p>Sensing what the other man was trying to convey, Jim released a little chuckle. He took Dwight’s hands in his own and brought them to his lips, kissing them gently. “We shouldn’t be away for to long or people might suspect something.” the lithe brunette reminded him. “Will you stay with me to lock up?” he questioned, his intentions evident in his eyes. Dwight nodded slightly and Jim smiled into his skin.</p><p>***</p><p>When the end of the workday came around, Jim offered to lock up the office, telling Michael that he had a little bit of paperwork to finish up on the computer before he went home. Not really caring about work matters that did not affect him directly, Michael waved him off and rushed out of the office, claiming that he did not want to be late for his improv class.</p><p>When it was just the two of them, they started shutting down the office.</p><p>After Dwight finished locking most of the doors, glad that he was an honorary night watchman and that he had made copies of all the keys to the office, he made his way back over to their cluster of desks to discover Jim waiting patiently for him in his chair. He realized that Jim had already taken his stiff dick out of his pants and was fisting it slowly, observing Dwight expectantly. His mouth watered and he could feel all the blood in his head rushing rapidly to his lower extremities.</p><p>Dwight walked over to the younger man, almost in a trance. Without a word, he dropped to his knees in front of his deskmate so that he was eye-level with his cock. Dwight reached for his member with a shaking hand and Jim removed his own hand so that the older man could grip his swollen shaft with trembling fingers. He stroked him slowly, admiring the soft feel of Jim’s skin in his hand. He had never thought that he would consider a penis -- any penis -- good-looking, but he thought that much like the rest of Jim, his cock was aesthetically attractive. His cock was slightly above average, slender and almost pretty, with creamy skin and a blushing pink head.</p><p>Dwight leaned forward, running his tongue along the length of him experimentally, causing Jim to let out a low, satisfied moan. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back. Dwight took the head into his mouth, admiring with fascination as his lover bit his lower lip, laying an encouraging hand on top of his (somewhat thinning) birch hair.</p><p>Ever the perfectionist, Dwight had been practicing his oral techniques on cucumbers since their first impromptu liaison. He swirled his tongue around the spongy head of Jim’s cock, tasting the salty tang of his precum. In many ways, Dwight was still getting used to the idea of wanting to pleasure Jim Halpert, but if he was going to do it, he was sure as hell going to make sure that he excelled at it.</p><p>“Fuck,” Jim breathed, his voice husky. Dwight peered up through his lashes, unable to keep the moan out of his throat when he saw the way that Jim looking at him, watching him sucking him off with a dangerous, lustful glint in his sage green eyes. “You look good on your knees, Dwight,” the chestnut-maned man complimented him, tugging lightly at Dwight’s dark brown hair. The prostrate man felt his cock twitch with another surge of desire, swelling against the fly of his pants. A part of him wanted to touch himself, but he decided that he should focus on getting Jim off first.</p><p>Dwight sped up his movements, bobbing his head rapidly, swallowing Jim’s length with enthusiasm. He watched with growing pride as his younger co-worker’s breathing grew haggard, his hardness pulsating against his tongue. Jim tightened his grip in Dwight’s thin hair, pulling at it as he expelled a low hiss of pleasure between his teeth. Jim’s cock twitched as he came, thick spurts of cum coating the inside of Dwight’s mouth and he gulped it down as well as he could, surprisingly not put off by the taste. The older man pulled his mouth off of Jim and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.</p><p>Dwight pushed himself to his feet and Jim grabbed his arm suddenly, yanking him down and pulling him into his lap. He brought their lips together, pressing his tongue into Dwight’s mouth, unfazed by the taste of his own cum as he lapped his tongue along the other man’s. His hand glided down the front of Dwight’s body and the man in his lap keened as Jim’s fingers drifted over the outline of his hard dick through his black slacks.</p><p>Dwight jerked abruptly in the younger man’s arms, his eyes shooting open in alarm. He had not realized how incredibly turned on he was until Jim had started to massage his shaft through his pants. A desperate mewl caught in his throat and when he felt the telltale signs of his balls tightening, Dwight broke the kiss, sputtering, “Jim, wait--” he tried to warn him, but he finished with a downright slutty groan as he exploded in his pants.</p><p>Jim chuckled quietly and Dwight turned a deep scarlet, utterly humiliated by the growing wet patch on the crotch of his slacks. Tears began to prick the corners of his baby blue eyes and Jim reached up to soothe him wordlessly, softly stroking his hair and placing fluttering kisses along the line of his jaw.</p><p>Dwight huffed out a breath, pouting a little before pivoting his head so that he could kiss Jim on the mouth again. Their kisses were slow and tender, and had he not known any better, Dwight might have even called them romantic. The older man could feel a warmth spreading through his chest. He could sense that he was starting to fall for Jim Halpert.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>***</p><p>“Okay, I think we’re done here.” Jim said amiably, sliding his clipboard under his arm and clapping his hands together lightly. He turned to Dwight, “Ready to go back upstairs?”</p><p>After the disastrous inversion of his clients’ orders, Michael had ordered Jim to supervise the warehouse workers while they repacked the correct orders. Technically, the task fell under the umbrella of quality assurance and was thus, Creed’s job, but every time Michael tried to talk to him about it, Creed claimed that he was suffering from a case of spontaneous temporary hearing loss. Finally, he had just forced Jim to do it and asked him to take Dwight along in case he needed an extra set of hands.</p><p>The spot check had gone fine. In spite of the change in their relationship, the two of them were still exchanging jibes. Unable to actually go without the incessant antagonism that defined their interactions. No one else knew that those jabs were now tinged with unspoken affection.</p><p>Jim moved to head back towards the stairs when Dwight grabbed his arm to stop him. The younger man turned to face his deskmate, his eyebrows rising with interest.</p><p>“Come with me,” Dwight prompted, tugging at him.</p><p>Bemused by his insistence, Jim allowed Dwight to lead him to a more isolated part of the warehouse, pushing him into a secluded alcove in between the towering shelves where they were out of sight. Once they were concealed, Dwight took the clipboard out of Jim’s hands and set it aside. The older man stepped forward, enveloping Jim in his arms and pressing his body into the athletic brunette, nuzzling his neck and inhaling his scent.</p><p>Jim was slightly taken aback. Dwight was not typically outwardly affectionate. While he was an enthusiastic sex partner, he usually shied away from any overt displays of affection, especially anything remotely resembling the romantic. Jim gently wound his arms around his co-worker’s waist and pressed his nose into Dwight’s hair. He smelled like dandruff shampoo, which should have been off-putting but was somehow so very Dwight that it was borderline cute. Jim felt an unwelcome tug at his heartstrings. Jim recognized that tug and he knew that it would bring him nothing but misery. They had established this as a purely physical relationship and he understood that it would be just as stupid of him to attach romantic feelings to this fling with Dwight as it had been to attach them to his friendship with Pam. It would only end with him in getting his heart broken.</p><p>Jim’s downward thought spiral was interrupted when Dwight angled his head in order to kiss him. He prodded the younger man’s lips with the tip of his tongue and Jim opened his mouth, permitting the older man entry. Dwight deepened the kiss, coiling his tongue around the other man’s, tasting a hint of coffee on Jim’s tongue. After a few minutes of languidly making out, Dwight pulled away from him to catch his breath. “I want to touch you.” Dwight told him, gazing into Jim’s eyes imploringly.</p><p>“Aren’t you doing that already?” Jim asked, sniggering. He was unable to stop himself from teasing his bespectacled co-worker. Dwight gave him a withering stare, the lines in his forehead creasing in irritation, and Jim snickered in response. Still, he loosened his grip on his uptight lover’s waist, allowing Dwight to push his back against the wall.</p><p>“Just shush,” Dwight instructed him, pressing a finger to Jim’s lips. He traced the outline of his mouth with the tip of his finger, sliding it down the line of Jim’s neck to the knot of his tie. Dwight could hear the pace of his own breathing speeding up as he loosened Jim’s tie, pulling it free. It was still a confusing notion for him, but he found that he really wanted to please Jim, to make him cum, even without getting something in return. Sometimes, Dwight felt like it was always the athletic brunette who was giving him mind blowing orgasm after mind blowing orgasm and he was slightly worried that he still had yet to prove himself as an equally worthy sexual partner. If Dwight K. Schrute was anything, he was prideful, so he intended to put his all into sculpting himself into the ideal companion. He would show Jim Halpert that he was just as capable a lover -- maybe a better one -- as he was.</p><p>Jim’s sage-green eyes fluttered shut. He inhaled and exhaled in slow, steady breaths, granting Dwight unfettered access to his body. The older man undid the buttons on Jim’s pearly white work-shirt, tugging it open to reveal his taut chest, admiring his peaches and cream complexion. Dwight attached his mouth to the column of Jim’s neck, licking and nipping along the curve of his neck. He heard Jim expel a quiet, contented sigh as he nibbled at his delicate flesh. Dwight dotted kisses along the other man’s chest, speckled with a dusting of dark hair, until he reached one of his tender, pink nipples. He flicked it carefully with the tip of his tongue, garnering a deep, contented groan from low in Jim’s throat.</p><p>Dwight teased the tip of Jim’s nipple into a hard point. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances of Jim’s face, studying the subtle changes in his expression with focused intensity. The younger man’s features were placid, almost serene, like the surface of a lake. A pale blush was blooming on his cheeks.</p><p>Dwight was utterly transfixed by the sight. Jim Halpert had to be the most beautiful person that he had ever seen in his life. How was it that he had never noticed it before now? Dwight felt a sudden jolt of possessiveness. He was filled with a enormous sense of pride that he was the one who had caused Jim to make such an enticing expression and he did not want to allow anyone else besides himself to see him in this state. Dwight had a sudden, shocking realization that he wanted Jim all to himself and he had no clue how to feel about it. Could sex friends even ask for exclusivity?</p><p>Instead of dwelling any further on his revelation, Dwight moved his mouth to Jim’s other nipple and started lathing it gently with his tongue. He caught the nub in between of his teeth, nibbling it. Jim murmured Dwight’s name and his hand drifted to the back of the older man’s head, stroking his hair affectionately. Dwight’s heart swelled at the contact; the intimacy of the gesture was making him more excited than if Jim had been begging. His stomach clenched uncomfortably.</p><p>He returned to the tousle-haired brunette’s soft, plush lips and kissed him deeply, his tongue flitting across Jim’s as his hands traveled down his bare chest to his waistband. Dwight unbuckled the other man’s leather belt and fumbled with the buttons on his dark slacks. He fussed with Jim’s boxers, guiding his cock out of the slit. Jim was rock hard, the head filled with blood, flushed an angry red. The shaft pulsated in Dwight’s grasp, already leaking precum.</p><p>He pumped Jim slowly, dragging the gossamer skin of his penis down to the base and back up again, lubricating his strokes with Jim’s own precum. Jim made a soft noise of approval, petting Dwight’s head tenderly.</p><p>Dwight leaned into the slimmer brunette, nuzzling along the line of his jaw with the tip of his nose as he continued to masturbate him with long, languorous strokes. Jim’s opened his eyes slightly and caught Dwight’s cornflower blue eyes with his own. Jim’s gaze was impious and heavy lidded, his deep green eyes glistening like emeralds in the harsh, yellowish light of the warehouse. A sultry smile danced across his lips and Dwight wondered how it still felt like Jim was the one seducing him even when he was the one being touched.</p><p>The bespectacled man increased his pace, flicking his wrist to squeeze the head of Jim’s cock on the upstroke. Jim’s breathing grew more haggard, his chest rising and falling heavily with each gasping breath. Dwight stuck his tongue out, running the tip of it along the length of his younger lover’s neck from right underneath his ear down to the nape. He felt his cock twitch in his hand. Dwight was marginally aware of his own erection, straining against the cotton of his boxer-briefs. He ignored his own desires, instead choosing to redouble his efforts in satisfying Jim.</p><p>Although Jim had remained surprisingly compliant through the majority of their interaction, one of his hand moved to Dwight’s chin, gently pressing his fingers against his jaw. He twisted the other man’s face in order to bring their lips together in another heated kiss.</p><p>Jim’s breathing became even more labored and Dwight could tell that he was getting close. He panted hotly into the older man’s open mouth. A low moan rumbled deep in his throat, vibrating against Dwight’s swollen lips. He felt Jim’s dick spasm in his grasp as he reached the peak, shooting ropes of cum onto the warehouse floor. Dwight slowly squeezed Jim’s cock until the spasming subsided, milking every last drop. Jim leaned his head back against the shelves, trying to catch his breath.</p><p>Dwight examined the semen covering his fingers and tentatively brought them to his mouth, as Jim had done when they were in the stairwell together, and swiped his tongue along his calloused fingertips, tasting his partner’s cum. His neglected cock throbbed angrily against his zipper, but he continued to ignore it. When the older man finished cleaning his hand, he turned to find that his deskmate had already put himself back together. His shirt was re-buttoned and tucked back into his navy slacks. He was busy redoing his tie.</p><p>Jim finished tying his plain black tie, glancing at the older man and giving him a small, tender smile and Dwight could feel his ears heating up. His emerald eyed co-worker often smiled at him, but it was typically a mischievous, cocksure smile that irritated Dwight. This smile was different. There was no malintent nor roguish charm, it was just a gentle upturn at the corners of his lips, a quiet fondness.</p><p>The older man swallowed thickly. He decided that he was going to have to keep a tighter rein on his emotions, because when Jim smiled at him like <em>that</em>, he could sense his feelings for the other man straddling the line between lustful and romantic.</p><p>Jim strode over to wear Dwight had hastily discarded his clipboard and swept down to pick it up. He made his way back over to his upright co-worker, ruffling Dwight’s dark hair affectionately. Dwight batted Jim’s hands away, flushing brightly. He tried to fix his hair swiftly, smoothing it down with his hands. “That was uncharacteristically generous of you, Dwight,” his fellow salesman slash lover teased, still smiling warmly at him. He leaned over in order to tap a kiss onto his deskmate’s round, chipmunk cheek, causing the older man to blush like a teenager.</p><p>“Being nice is a sign of weakness.” Dwight snipped. His stomach bubbled with pleasant excitement and he had to stamp down the urge to smile back at Jim. “This was merely a facet of our arrangement, tit for tit.”</p><p>“That’s still not the expression.”</p><p>***</p><p>A few days later, Dwight was busy making a sales call when his phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He jumped a little bit, startled by the sensation. It was uncommon for anyone to contact him while he was at work, aside from his cousin Mose, who only did so when there was a problem at the farm. Mose was not a fan of cell phones. Dwight finished his call (after managing to cinch a huge order) and fished his phone from his pocked. He flipped it open and was surprised to discover that he had a text message from Jim.</p><p>
  <strong>&lt; my rmmte is out of town. do u want 2 stay at my place fri?&gt;</strong>
</p><p>Dwight felt a faint blush crawling across his cheeks as he pictured having Jim all to himself for an entire weekend. His mind was quickly painting the naughtiest of scenarios.</p><p>He glanced over at Jim. He was on the phone, chatting up a client. The chestnut haired man caught Dwight’s eye and flashed him a sly grin, his pine-green eyes twinkling with a glint of mischievousness. Dwight felt a shiver zip down the length of his spine. <em>God</em>, how had he never noticed how downright <em>sexy</em> Jim was before now?</p><p>The older man began carefully composing a reply, his dark brows furrowed over the rims of his glasses as he searched for the right words. He did not want to seem to eager even though the truth was that his blood was abuzz with exhilaration, excitement humming through his veins. Dwight was astonished that he was actually looking forward to more than just getting his rocks off. He actually wanted to <em>spend time</em> with Jim Halpert. The notion shocked him to his core.</p><p>
  <strong>&lt;Ok. I’ll come to your house at 2100 hrs.&gt;</strong>
</p><p>Jim’s phone dinged, indicating that he had a message. He used the hand that wasn’t holding the receiver to grab his cell and flipped it open with a tiny jerk of his hand. His smile widened when he viewed the reply. The perfect grammar and use of military time, so unnecessary for a text, made him chuckle. It was so quintessentially Dwight. <em>How cute,</em> he thought.</p><p>Jim would not have been willing to admit it -- at least not yet -- but he was kind of excited to have Dwight all to himself. It was almost like having a real boyfriend. Jim ran his fingers through his flyaway, almond locks, laughing at himself. Dwight? A boyfriend? Jim thought that he might be losing his mind. The worst part was that he was caring less and less.</p><p>***</p><p>Dwight pulled his cherry-red Pontiac Trans-Am into the driveway of the house that Jim shared with his roommate, Mark. He remembered the location, even though he had only been there once before, from the barbecue surprise party that Jim had so kindly thrown Michael a while ago. The bespectacled brunette parked his car and turned it off, sitting in the driver’s seat for a moment to compose himself.</p><p>The older man exited his car and made his way to the front door, standing on the stoop for a few minutes, trying to calm himself before knocking.</p><p>Dwight was dressed in his street clothes which consisted of an oversized, white Mötely Crüe tee shirt that billowed around his middle, hopefully camouflaging his soft, pudgy stomach. He had paired it with a pair of off-brand navy sweatpants with three white stripes traveling down the sides of his legs. He figured that it might be in his best interest to wear something that could be removed without a hassle. He wiggled his toes inside his socks, trying to expel some of the nervous energy coursing through his veins.</p><p>Dwight closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath, attempting to quell the ball of anxiety that was forming in the pit of his stomach. He opened his eyes again and rapped his knuckles on the front door, sucking in a gulp of the crisp night air through his nose and holding his breath as he waited. Dwight heard some shuffling from inside the house and braced himself as the door swung open to reveal Jim, who was wearing his signature smirk.</p><p>Jim leaned his slender body casually against the frame of the door, his eyes raking down the length of Dwight’s body lasciviously. His arresting emerald gaze made Dwight feel like Jim was undressing him with his eyes.</p><p>Even though they were dressed similarly, Dwight was once again struck by how effortlessly sexy Jim always managed to look no matter what he was wearing. The younger man was wearing a soft, form fitting, meadow-green tee shirt paired with navy and green plaid pajama pants that hung low on his narrow hips, revealing a stripe of skin between his tee shirt and pants that Dwight just wanted to run the tips of his fingers along. “Dwight?” Jim said his name amusedly and he jerked upward in surprise. Dwight realized that he had just been blatantly checking out his co-worker and his cheeks blazed scarlet.</p><p>Jim held out his hand and Dwight reached forward to slide his hand into Jim’s warm, smooth one. The lithe brunette squeezed his hand lightly. He then proceeded to pull the other man into the house, letting the door click shut behind them.</p><p>***</p><p>“What I don’t understand is why anyone would go to a barber whose hair looks like that.” Jim complained, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth with little care for manners. “It looks like a rat’s nest,” he said through a mouthful of food, gesturing at Johnny Depp’s mass of stiff, black-and-white hair.</p><p>“<em>That’s </em>your issue?” Dwight replied, exasperated. “Am I supposed to believe that not one of these customers fell ill from ingesting human meat? That would cause Kuru,” he pointed out, bright blue eyes flashing in annoyance.</p><p>“Can’t you cook out illnesses like every other meat?” Jim inquired. One of his arms was draped along the back of the couch, he slid it down covertly, wrapping his arm around Dwight’s shoulders and casually pulling the other man’s body into his own -- like a real couple.</p><p>Dwight hoped that Jim didn’t notice the delicate, pink blush dotting his cheeks. “M-Much like most meat, cooking human flesh would only rid it of some disease.” the older man explicated, a slight stammer invading his typically haughty tone. “You should really read up on meat preparation.” Dwight scolded, snuggling slightly closer to Jim, pressing his body into his side. He could not believe how comfortable this was -- domestic even. Dwight hadn’t expected this to be so easy, to feel so normal. Jim was familiar with his eccentricities and the two of them were formulating a strange, but pleasant rapport. For a moment, he desperately wished that it were all real and they were actual boyfriends. He quashed the thought mercilessly as quickly as it occurred.</p><p>“It was the 1800s.” Jim countered. “Enough people probably died of random diseases that I doubt anyone would question it if someone contracted cannibal disease. Weren’t people just like, chugging laudanum like soda?” he commented, his thumb started making small circles in the center of Dwight’s back, between his shoulder blades. Dwight snorted, muffling it behind his fingers.</p><p>They watched the rest of the movie, peppered with casual commentary, nestled together on Jim’s tiny, brown couch like any other couple. When the credits started rolling, the two of them turned to face one another. Their features were shadowed in the blue-tinted glow coming from the television.</p><p>A pregnant silence weighed between the two of them.</p><p>Jim reached up to place a gentle hand on Dwight’s cheek and leaned forward to meld their lips together in a tender kiss. The kiss was slow and gentle, their tongues dancing across one another. It was so sweet and intimate that Dwight wanted to cry. It wasn’t fair. Jim made him want so much more from him than he knew that he was willing to give.</p><p>Dwight’s eyes fluttered close and he gave himself over to the kiss, allowing Jim’s talented tongue to expertly explore his mouth. A little whimper caught in the back of his throat as Jim moved his hand to grip the back of his neck, giving him a small, possessive squeeze.</p><p>Blood began traveling southward to Dwight’s cock, causing it to swell in arousal. His navy sweatpants began to tent. Jim maneuvered them rapidly, pushing Dwight down until he was flat on his back, his neck pressed against the arm of the couch against one of the cushions. The tousle-haired brunette crawled on top of Dwight, hovering over him. Their eyes locked for a moment and the silence between them became heavy and laden with innuendo, their breathing mingling together in the semi-darkness of the living room.</p><p>Jim swooped back down to once again connect their mouths. His kisses were becoming bolder and more insistent. His strong hands forced Dwight’s shirt upward, bunching the fabric underneath his armpits, exposing his chest and stomach. Jim’s curious fingers drifted to Dwight’s nipple, pinching the soft, pink flesh in between his fingertips, eliciting a sharp gasp from the man underneath him.</p><p>Jim gently kissed a line along Dwight’s jaw and down the column of his neck, biting the soft flesh where his neck met his shoulder. His fingers moved to his other nipple, pinching and teasing it into a hard nub. The older man whined, digging his fingers into Jim’s broad shoulders. The chestnut haired man smiled into the other man’s skin before he moved his talented mouth to Dwight’s chest and started kissing and licking his way down his body. Jim paused at the waistband of his sweats, hooking his fingers underneath the fabric and Dwight lifted his hips, allowing the other man to shimmy his pants down, releasing his member, which was already standing at attention.</p><p>Dwight could feel Jim’s hot breath ghosting along his exposed skin and he trembled a little. He craned his neck, staring wide-eyed as Jim took the tip of his dick into his mouth. It was the first time Jim had given him head and Dwight soon discovered that his smart mouth was as talented as his hands. The younger man flicked his tongue with expert grace, swirling it around the head of his erection. Dwight’s eyes rolled back in his head and he threw his head back into the pillows, moaning loudly.</p><p>In one swift motion, Jim swallowed his cock to the base. The instant that the tip of his member hit the back of his lover’s throat, an expletive tore from his mouth. He had never received a blow job even half as good as whatever the hell Jim was currently doing with his tongue. He could have died happy.</p><p>Perhaps it was because he felt the need to be discreet in the office, but Dwight could no longer control the volume of his voice. A string of filth fell from his lips as he begged Jim to continue his wonderful ministrations. His pleas were growing more and more desperate with each passing second. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” he chanted, as Jim worked his tongue along his shaft. Dwight’s breathing began to stagger as an intense orgasm began to build deep within his balls. “Jim!” he yelped, his voice coming out in an embarrassingly high-pitched whine. “Jim, please--” Dwight panted wantonly. His sweaty hand shot out to tangle itself in Jim’s messy, brown hair as though he thought that he had to hold onto his lover to keep him there, lest he float away.</p><p>Dwight’s orgasm hit him like a punch to the gut and he let out a strangled yell when he reached the pinnacle, spilling his seed into Jim’s waiting mouth. The younger man kept his lips clamped tightly around Dwight’s cock, swallowing his cum with practiced ease.</p><p>Finally, Jim released his member with a pop and crawled back up the length of Dwight’s body so that he could study his face more closely. Jim admired the dazed expression on his private lover’s face. He peered up at Jim, his gaze almost reverent, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling like aquamarines in the bluish light that was illuminating the living room. “<em>Oh my God</em>.” Dwight repeated weakly, flushed and breathless, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each harsh inhale and exhale. He tipped his chin upward and the younger man, sensing what he wanted, angled his mouth so that he could bring their lips together once again. Jim thought he might never tire of kissing him. Nobody in Jim’s past melted into his kisses quite like Dwight did.</p><p>Dwight slowly regained his bearings, his still trembling hands drifting down Jim’s slight figure, dancing over his chest and stomach. He forced his hand underneath the waistband of Jim’s plaid pajama pants, discovering that he was as hard as Dwight had been just moments before. He wrapped his fingers around his lover’s length and pumped his hand, flicking his wrist with every stroke, mimicking the way that he had touched him in the warehouse. The older man used his other hand to push Jim’s bottoms lower, exposing his hard-on. The tousle-haired brunette broke the kiss, his eyes drifting shut and pressed his sweaty forehead against Dwight’s, panting hotly. Jim’s cock twitched against Dwight’s palm as he thrust into his fist.</p><p>Dwight was once again mesmerized by his secret partner’s expressions as he worked his stiffness. The apples of his cheeks were flushed pink, his features were sharply outlined in the semi-darkness. His plump lips, slick with spit, were parted slightly. Jim huffed out staggering breaths against Dwight’s mouth. He increased the speed of his strokes, silently admiring the way that Jim clenched his eyes shut tightly, his thick brows knitting together, as his pleasure mounted. He released a low, satisfied groan that made Dwight’s heartbeat hammer in his chest.</p><p>The older man swirled his thumb around the tip of Jim’s cock and he growled, “<em>Fuck. Dwight.” </em>Jim hissed the other man’s name as though it were a dirty word as he toppled over the edge. His slender hips stuttered in Dwight’s fist as he shot ropes of searing hot cum across Dwight’s bare stomach.</p><p>When he finally caught his breath, Jim opened his eyes and smiled down warmly at him and Dwight thought that his heart might have stopped beating entirely. Jim leaned over to grab a handful of tissues from the coffee table and gently cleaned his mess off of Dwight’s soft stomach. When he was finished, Jim leaned down to give the other man a quick peck on his freshly cleaned tummy. Dwight’s breath caught in his throat. It was a ridiculously cute gesture.</p><p>“You wanna watch <em>The Bourne Identity </em>now?” he inquired, cocking his head to the side.</p><p>“O-okay,” Dwight stammered, grinning up at him, stupidly.</p><p>“Good.” Jim replied, giving Dwight another tiny kiss on his bare stomach before climbing off of him and getting to his feet. “I’ll go make more popcorn,” he said, tugging his pajama pants back up his slender hips and heading into the kitchen.</p><p>Once Jim was out of the room, Dwight quickly readjusted himself, yanking his sweatpants back up his hips and sitting up straight. He buried his face in his hands, unable to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. He felt ridiculously giddy, like a child on a sugar high. Given their shared history, nothing about their current arrangement should be going well, but in spite of everything, they just <em>clicked</em>. Dwight hadn’t been this excited by a relationship since he was in high school.</p><p>His heart sunk to the pit of his stomach when he remembered that this wasn’t a <em>real </em>relationship, just some sort of enemies-with-benefits thing. Watching a couple of movies together didn’t make this a date and snuggling on the couch didn’t make them a couple. He huffed out a angst ridden sigh, running his fingers through his thin, birch hair.</p><p>Jim came back into the room carrying a bowl of popcorn and two beers.</p><p>Jim set down the food and drinks on the coffee table in front of them and went to set up the second movie. Dwight observed Jim from behind and was overcome by another unwelcome wave of affection. Jim made his way back over to the couch and plopped down next to the older man. Without his previous hesitation, Dwight scooted closer to the other man and snuggled up against him. He leaned his head on Jim’s shoulder and inhaled his scent. His nostrils filled with the smell of Old Spice and something he could not place. He imagined that it was just Jim’s natural scent. If this was all he could have, Dwight decided that he would continue to play pretend.</p><p>
  <em>For now.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>According to the internet, both Sweeny Todd and The Bourne Identity were on DVD by 2008 where this story takes place, but I could be working off of false information. Suspend your disbelief a little because I don’t wanna rewrite it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jim tries to take things to the next level. It doesn't go quite as expected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter Warning: This chapter includes sex where one of the parties is intoxicated. It is consensual, but it is still a trigger so I figured I would warn about it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pam had noticed that something was up with Jim and Dwight immediately.</p><p>Over the years that she had worked at Dunder-Mifflin, she had become accustomed to reading Jim’s body language. While he was still poking fun at his deskmate, the two of them had been orbiting around each other like magnets, drawn together by an invisible force.</p><p>More than once she had caught Jim staring at Dwight with an expression that she had never seen him wear before, especially not in relation to their stodgy co-worker. The week before she had spotted the two of them talking to each other in the hallway. One of Jim’s lanky arms was bracketed against the wall beside the older man’s head. The ever observant receptionist watched with fascination as her tousle-haired friend leaned forward to whisper something into his once hated deskmate’s ear. What shocked her more was the small trace of a smile that ghosted across Dwight’s face. It was gone in a flash, but she could have sworn that he was blushing ever-so-slightly.</p><p>After almost three months of their nonsense, Pam couldn’t take it anymore.</p><p>She cornered Jim in the breakroom while he was chilling at the tiny, plastic table, working his way through his ham and cheese sandwich. His green eyes lifted when the door clicked shut behind her. The slender brunette gave her a smile in way of greeting, since his mouth was still stuffed with sandwich.</p><p>“Okay, tell me what’s going on,” the redhead demanded, sliding into the chair across from him.</p><p>Jim looked genuinely befuddled, his thick, dark eyebrows rising towards his shaggy bangs, nearly blending in with his hairline. “With what?” he questioned, taking a swig of grape soda. She frowned at him, her forehead crinkling in irritation. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, observing him shrewdly. Jim met her gaze, but did not offer a response. Instead, he took another large bite of ham and cheese, chewing slowly.</p><p>“With you and Dwight.” Pam emphasized and watched with fascination as Jim’s pine-green eyes widened to the size of saucers. He tried to say something, but it was cut off when he choked on the oversized gob of food in his mouth. He dropped his sandwich on the table, coughing roughly.</p><p>Jim pounded on his chest hard with his fist, hacking harshly. Finally, he managed to dislodge the food from his windpipe, snatching up a nearby napkin and spitting out a glob of chewed ham and cheese into it. He met her gaze slowly, teary eyed and red-faced from his violent coughing fit. “E-Excuse me?” he asked, his voice weak and hoarse. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” the messy haired brunette insisted. He broke eye contact, looking anywhere but her face.</p><p>“Oh, don’t bullshit me, Halpert,” the receptionist griped, her tone sour. “You’re keeping something from me and I don’t appreciate it.” Pam told him, a little wounded.</p><p>Jim let out a tortured sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Look,” he started, returning his eyes to hers, and Pam was startled by the shade of panic reflected in his sage colored eyes. “I don’t want to lie to you, but if I trust you with this you have to promise me that you can keep it to yourself. Can I trust you?” Jim asked lowly, his voice was quiet and deadly serious, which shocked Pam. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her lackadaisical cohort look so fearful and desperate. Her heart went out to him.</p><p>“Of course, you can trust me.” Pam reassured him, reaching out to pat the back of Jim’s hand affectionately. He gave her a weak smile.</p><p>“We’re together.”</p><p>Pam’s robin's egg blue eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Surely, she had just heard him incorrectly. There was <em>no way</em> that Dwight and Jim could ever have <em>that</em> kind of relationship with each other. “To-together?” she repeated, shrilly.</p><p>Jim flushed a bright scarlet, snagging his bottom lip with his teeth and gnawing it anxiously. “We’ve been, um--” he searched for the right word, twiddling his thumbs, clearly embarrassed. “--intimate, for a little over two months," the chestnut-haired salesman admitted, withdrawing his hand to rub the back of his neck, anxiously. His eyes darted around the room apprehensively, trying to make sure that no one in the office was eavesdropping on their conversation. “I think--” he continued, struggling valiantly, “I think it’s becoming a dating thing.” he confessed, smiling sheepishly.</p><p>Pam gaped at him. She wasn’t sure what she found more surprising, the idea of Jim being in a romantic relationship with another man or the idea of Jim in a romantic relationship with <em>Dwight Schrute</em>. She decided that it was the latter. “So, does that mean that you’re gay?” the curly-haired woman asked, hoping that she didn’t sound insensitive.</p><p>Jim shook his head. “No, bisexual,” he corrected her automatically.</p><p>“H-Have you always been attracted to Dwight?” Pam inquired, still struggling to wrap her mind around the idea of the two of them banging. The mental image was a little more than she could take. It had taken her barely a few seconds to digest the fact that Jim enjoyed the company of both men and women, but he was so out of Dwight’s league it was ridiculous.</p><p>Jim burst out laughing. “Of course not!” he snickered, his cheeks flushing with fresh color, delicate and endearing. “To be honest with you, I have no idea what happened.” Jim sighed, running his long, slender fingers through his messy brown hair absentmindedly, mussing it up further. “But honestly, Beesly, he can be really… sexy," he finished, still chuckling softly.</p><p>Now, it was Pam’s turn to laugh. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” the coppery-haired receptionist retorted. “Does Dwight know that you want to be more than fuck buddies?” she inquired. Pam could discern from both the tone of his voice and his demeanor that Jim was being completely serious. A blind person could have ascertained that Jim was clearly developing feelings towards Dwight that could only be classified as romantic. As strange as the notion of the two of them being a couple still was to her -- it would take a little time to adjust to the idea -- she realized that she really wanted it to work out for them. Jim deserved as much.</p><p>“I was actually planning on bringing it up with him tonight over dinner.” Jim explained. “He’s kind of -- you know -- a dense idiot.” Jim commented, a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips. He prodded his balled up napkin with the tip of his finger, rolling it across the table.</p><p><em>Holy shit. H</em><em>e's fucking smitten. </em>Pam thought, a little taken aback. “Well, I wish you the best of luck, Jim. I really do.” Pam said, giving him a soft, encouraging smile and flashing him a double thumbs up.</p><p>“Thanks, Beesly.” Jim smiled.</p><p>“It’s never a problem for a friend.”</p><p>“Cheesy.” Jim scolded, shaking his head in mock disappointment, as he collected his garbage and got to his feet. “Cheesy Beesly.”</p><p>***</p><p>Dwight was more than a little surprised when Jim invited him to meet him at Chili’s after work.</p><p>Over the past couple of months, they hadn’t spent a huge amount of time in public with each other, especially not in Scranton. Admittedly, the majority of the things they did together consisted of activities that might have gotten them arrested had they been doing them in public. It almost felt like a Real Date, but Dwight callously squashed the notion before it even had a chance to flourish. There is no way that Jim would ever take him on an actual date, like a couple, no matter how much he was starting to wish that he would.</p><p>His feelings for Jim had snuck up on him. Maybe they had always been there, simmering just below the surface, and he had just failed to recognize them for what they were. He wasn’t sure exactly when it had begun, but somewhere along the way he had started falling in love with Jim Halpert. He was genuine and quick-witted and although he rarely took things seriously, Jim could apply himself with enthusiasm when he wanted to. He always paid attention whenever Dwight would ramble on about his favorite sci-fi shows, and even when he was being playful, his lighthearted mocking no longer enraged him in the way it used to. Dwight thought that his teasing had become almost affectionate. The major problem was that no matter what Dwight felt for him, he knew that Jim was not -- could not -- be interested in him beyond the physical. They were fuck buddies, secret sex friends, and that was all they were ever going to be. Dwight had to be careful. He didn’t want Jim to end their arrangement preemptively because he had caught feelings for him.</p><p>Dwight was wrenched out of his inner turmoil by the very man plaguing his thoughts.</p><p>Jim slid into the booth across from him, flashing him a smile that made his heart leap to his throat. The athletic brunette extended his arm across the table in order to entwine his fingers with Dwight’s, squeezing his hand briefly before pulling away. “Sorry, I’m late.” Jim apologized, reaching for the plastic menu sitting in front of him and flipping it open, glancing it over. “Did you order yet?” the chestnut-haired man inquired, meeting his gaze. Dwight wondered yet again how Jim could always manage to look as if he had just woken up, but also effortlessly sexy.</p><p>“No,” Dwight replied, his tone clipped, but there was a trace of a blush dotting his cheeks. He looked down at his hand, staring at it, trying not to smile. He wondered if anyone had seen Jim take his hand. The more he considered it, the more he thought that he could care less who might see them together. “I thought you might want to split something.” the older man offered, his sharp blue eyes intermittently scanning the restaurant for any familiar faces from the office. While Dwight knew that he excelled at stealth -- he was easily CIA material -- he was also incredibly loyal. He was more than confident that he could outwit any of his feeble co-workers, he wasn’t sure that he would be able to hide the situation if Michael found them. The two of them were so close that he was worried that his boss would be able to see right through him.</p><p>“Aw, aren’t you sweet?” Jim replied playfully and Dwight dropped his gaze to his hands again, blushing like an idiot. “What’s that thing Michael always gets here?” the younger man asked, searching the menu.</p><p>“Awesome Blossom.” Dwight answered automatically.</p><p>“That’s the one.” Jim agreed. “And ever since The Dundies last year, Pam has been telling me that I need to try the margaritas here.”</p><p>Dwight pursed his lips. “Are you referring to the night where she was stealing other people’s drinks and became so intoxicated that she got herself banned from an entire restaurant chain?” he questioned, his eyebrow quirking inquisitively.</p><p>“Yes.” Jim replied, laughing at the memory of a drunken Pam toppling off a barstool and landing on her ass.</p><p>“Are you planning on getting completely trashed?” the older man inquired, eyeing the chestnut-haired man seated across from him curiously.</p><p>Jim met his gaze and smiled slyly, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. “I might,” he replied, lightheartedly. “Who knows, maybe I’ll let you take advantage of me.” he teased and Dwight’s stomach flipped with the innuendo. It wasn’t fair how Jim could be so carelessly endearing. It wasn’t fair that he made Dwight want to be <em>with </em>him, that he made him want to be more than a debauched, sexual secret.</p><p>Dwight attempted to maintain his hardened exterior, desperately trying to not give into the ridiculous girly feelings that were clouding his senses and threatening to overtake him completely. He scoffed, “So far it’s been fairly easy to accomplish without the aid of alcohol,” the dark-haired salesman countered, trying to sound haughty even though the way Jim was looking at him was causing his heart to squeeze in a way that made him feel as though he was an acne-riddled teenager on their first date. Jim laughed heartily, a sound that Dwight had rarely heard, and suddenly his tongue felt like it was too big for his mouth.</p><p>They were mercifully interrupted by a chipper waitress. “Hi guys!” she greeted them in an overly cheerful, high-pitched voice that made her sound like a pixie in a Disney movie. “My name is Randi -- with an i -- and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you gentlemen with something to drink?” she asked, her bright, fawn-colored eyes traveling between the two of them.</p><p>“Sure,” Jim responded, flashing their waitress that same killer smile that he used to win over countless customers. “Can you please get us two strawberry margaritas and an Awesome Blossom?” the flyaway haired man asked, amiably.</p><p>“S-Sure,” the waitress stammered, smiling stupidly as she jotted down their order.</p><p>Dwight had seen this happen many times before over the years when he was out in public with Jim. A woman would speak with him and get that foolish expression on her face, her cheeks blushing pink, eyes wide and sparkly. It would be as if he had donned Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak and the woman in question would do everything she could to get Jim’s attention short of crawling into his lap.</p><p>He examined her shrewdly. Randi -- with an i -- was of average height for a woman, roughly five foot four. She was slight, with an athletic body and an underwhelming bust. She wore her satiny blonde hair in a high, tight ponytail that she tossed flirtatiously while she chattered away, trying to draw his younger co-worker’s attentions. In the past, Dwight had usually just rolled his eyes at these women’s skanky displays, but for some strange reason this sprightly co-ed was getting under his skin. There was a hard ball of unwanted jealousy forming in the bottom of his stomach. He felt a little like one of the dogs on the farm, growling when another creature ventured to close to its property. Dwight’s hackles raised as the svelte blonde leaned over Jim. Her fair hair brushed against the top of his shoulder and he spotted her fingers, with their pink-tipped nails, inching ever so slightly in the direction of Jim’s hand. Suddenly, Dwight snapped. “Why don’t you go ahead and get us those drinks instead of shamelessly throwing yourself at my co-worker?” Dwight bit out, his tone sharp and laced with venom. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with what had just come tumbling out his mouth and he felt his ears reddening in embarrassment.</p><p>The other two just stared at him, gap-mouthed.</p><p>“Oh-Okay.” Randi stammered. Her big, brown eyes widened, filling with a flash of pure terror. She skittered away towards the kitchen without another word.</p><p>Jim turned back to face Dwight, placing his elbow on the table and propping his chin up on his palm. He hid the traces of a smile that was forming on his lips behind his fingers. The older man swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably. Jim had never seen Dwight get so possessive of a person before -- except maybe Michael. It was clear that he was jealous and God help him, Jim thought it was utterly adorable. Maybe the romantic feelings that he was starting to form weren’t so one-sided after all. Jim reached across the table with his free hand, placing it over Dwight’s hand and he nearly jumped out his skin at the contact. He reluctantly brought his eyes up to meet his younger deskmate’s piercing gaze, his pale blue eyes wide and owlish behind the lenses of his glasses. “Dwight?” the chestnut-haired man prompted him, his tone soothing. “Are you alright?”</p><p>Dwight felt a rush of panic, crawling up his back like an itch. “I-I’m fine,” he stammered, struggling to keep his tone in check. If Jim thought that he was treating their relationship as more intimate than just two people engaging sexually, he might terminate their entire arrangement and Dwight was not quite ready to give that up yet. “I’m well aware of the intricacies of our arrangement.” Dwight told him, trying to sound reassuring. Jim gave him a strange look, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.</p><p>“Oh? And what is that?” Jim inquired, the corners of his lips pulling downward in a slight frown.</p><p>“Y-You know,” Dwight struggled, dropping his gaze back to the dark fake wood of the plastic tables. “That we’re just spending time together… <em>recreationally</em>.” He spoke carefully, staring at the table with such utmost focus that it felt like he was trying to cause it to burst into flames with his mind. He was praying to every god in the universe that his feelings weren’t written all over his face.</p><p>“Oh,” Jim replied, his voice suddenly flat and devoid of emotion. Dwight glanced up in confusion just in time to see the other man’s face fall. Jim’s entire demeanor shifted, as if a black raincloud had just opened up over his head. The bespectacled man felt his blood turn to ice water in his veins.</p><p>Randi returned to their table, sliding their drinks in front of them. “Is there anything else that I can get you two?” she asked in her squeaky, mouse-like voice.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jim responded gruffly, smiling up at her, but his smile did not quite reach his eyes. “Just keep these coming.” he instructed, indicating his margarita. His usually laidback co-worker’s gregarious attitude had evaporated in an instant and Dwight wanted to say something, but his words stuck uncomfortably in the back of his throat, like a glob of phlegm.</p><p>Dwight watched with mounting concern as Jim quickly became intoxicated after only a couple of margaritas. He had forgotten that in spite the fact that he was over six feet tall and at least a hundred and eighty pounds, Jim Halpert was an incredible light-weight. Even though he had consumed less than a quarter of the amount of alcohol that Pam had during the 2006 Dundies, he was already thoroughly drunk.</p><p>Dwight tried several times to engage Jim in conversation, but his answers were noncommittal and clipped. He could tell that the messy-haired brunette was pissed off, but he did not have the faintest notion as to <em>why</em> he was so upset. Could Jim have picked up on his true feelings regardless of his best efforts to conceal them? Was he angry with him for compromising their carnal relationship with complicated emotions?</p><p>Jim managed to pay the bill, citing Dwight’s previous insistence on covering the tab because he was the one who had suggested that they go out. However, it was extremely clear that Jim was not capable of driving himself home. Dwight placed an arm around the younger man’s shoulder and guided him out of the restaurant to his Trans-Am, hoping that the crisp night air might sober him up a little.</p><p>They drove to Jim's place in silence.</p><p>Dwight pulled his car into Jim’s driveway, noting that his roommate’s car was absent. He switched the car off and pivoted to face the other man. Dwight opened his mouth to speak, but Jim did not allow him to get a word out before he cemented their lips together. He grabbed the back of Dwight’s neck roughly, holding him still and forcing his tongue into his mouth. Jim kissed him fervently, almost violently -- all lips and teeth and tongue. It was reminiscent of their first kiss in the conference room. Needy. Angry.</p><p>Jim pulled away to growl into his ear. “<em>Inside now,</em>" he ordered, his voice low and guttural, almost animalistic in nature. There was a part of Dwight that was massively concerned about Jim’s rapid mood swings, but for some reason he could not bring himself to stop kissing him. Another part started to ache with a familiar burn, deep in his chest. The nagging pull that he wanted <em>more</em>. More than just this. More than something that was merely physical. In spite of the conflicting emotions swirling in his head, Dwight's body responded readily to the other man’s demanding touch.</p><p>Dwight allowed Jim to haul him along, swerving somewhat, up to the front door. He struggled to get his key into the lock, navigating through the haze of intoxication, but after a minute he managed to get the door unlocked. He yanked Dwight inside roughly, kicking the door shut behind them.</p><p>Jim led them up the stairs and dragged Dwight down the hallway to his bedroom, throwing him onto the bed with such force that the springs groaned underneath him.</p><p>The older man watched, goggle-eyed as Jim pulled his tie loose with one hand and discarded it on the floor. “Get your clothes off,” he commanded, not looking at the man on his bed.</p><p>Dwight did as he was bid, rapidly divesting himself of his work clothes and tossing them into a messy pile on the floor next to the bed. He removed his glasses and folded them, dropping them onto the nightstand. He scrambled back onto the bed and waited obediently. He was a little ashamed of his own instantaneous submission, but there was no way he could deny the wave of excitement that rushed over him as he watched Jim undress.</p><p>Jim finished removing his own clothing, flinging them unceremoniously onto his desk. His deep, sage-green eyes glinted sharply in the moonlight that was coming through the window as he studied the naked man on his bed. He rounded on the older man, his face heavily shadowed, making his expression unreadable.</p><p>Jim climbed on top of Dwight.</p><p>Dwight realized that it was the first time that the two of them had been totally naked with one another. Their eyes locked and the silence weighed heavily between them. “Jim--” the older man began, but Jim cut him off again.</p><p>“Quiet.” Jim snarled, his voice guttural. His tone had an edge that could slice through metal and Dwight’s stomach clenched uncomfortably. He thought about stopping him. About halting the proceedings and pressing Jim to tell him what was wrong, but in that moment the younger man descended on him with fervor. His kisses were forceful and demanding. Jim moved to mouth the other man’s neck, licking and sucking at the pale skin there, leaving a trail of angry red bruises that Dwight knew that he would have to struggle to hide, visible brands alerting everyone to the true nature of their relationship. Jim sunk his teeth into the tender flesh at the nape of his neck, eliciting a wheezing gasp from Dwight, his pale blue eyes prickling with tears.</p><p>Jim was unyielding, his lips dominating and insistent. His tongue tasted sweet, a mixture of strawberries and alcohol. Jim’s strong hands felt like they were everywhere at once, grasping and gripping into his soft skin. He dug his fingers into Dwight’s ass, tugging him forward and grinding their bare erections together. Dwight expelled a desperate whine, clutching at Jim’s broad shoulders. He screwed his eyes shut, tightly. If this was all he could have of Jim, he was going to cling to it as long as he possibly could. Jim reached in between them and gripped Dwight’s swollen shaft in his hand, jerking him roughly. Dwight bucked into his fist, a choked half-sob catching in his throat. “Fuck!” he spluttered.</p><p>Jim released his member and reached over to the nightstand, tugging the draw open and extracting a small bottle of water-based lubricant. He flicked open the cap with his thumb. The click caused Dwight’s eyes to shoot open. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and watched with wide eyes as the younger man squirted a glob of lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm them up.</p><p>Dwight’s mouth went dry.</p><p>Over the past couple of months, they had done a myriad of erotic activities together, but they had yet to broach the subject of anal sex. Not speaking, Jim made eye contact, his gaze clearly inquiring him. Dwight swallowed hard and nodded slowly. He opened his legs, shifting his hips lower to give Jim better access to his hole. He squeaked when Jim’s fingers stuttered against his opening, warm and slick. His entire body was buzzing with anticipation. Jim did not break eye contact as he pressed his middle finger into Dwight slowly. Jim’s gaze was penetrating and all consuming, enveloping Dwight in an emerald forest fire, trapping him. He felt as though he had been cracked open and laid bare, his entire soul on display for Jim to see. He could hear his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. He wondered if Jim could hear it too.</p><p>Jim added a second finger, thrusting into him roughly and Dwight chewed on his lower lip, biting down the groan that was bubbling up from deep in his chest. The tousle-haired brunette scissored his fingers deftly, stretching him out with an expert ease, and not for the first time, Dwight wondered how many men before him had fallen victim to Jim Halpert’s magical fingers. Jim curled his fingers skillfully, pressing against a spot inside of Dwight that caused white dots to dance across his vision. He ground his hips down onto Jim’s slender digits, unable to stop himself from releasing a high-pitched, desperate moan. His cock throbbed against his stomach, scorching hot and as hard as steel. “Fuck me.” Dwight begged in a breathy whisper. It startled him to hear the gasping, desperate whine in his tone, but there was no denying it, even to himself. He wanted Jim inside of him and he wanted him now.</p><p>He huffed out a breath as Jim slid his fingers out of his ass, wiping them on his sheets absentmindedly. Jim squeezed another glob of lubricant onto his hand, massaging it onto his stiff length until it was slick. The younger man bracketed his arm on the bed near Dwight’s head, using his other hand to position himself at his entrance. His entire body went rigid as Jim pressed the tip of his cock into him and he lifted his hips upward slightly to accommodate his girth.</p><p>As he slowly worked his member into Dwight, Jim dropped his head onto the older man’s shoulder, his soft, almond bangs brushing against his skin. He was breathing hard, his breaths coming out in hot, harsh pants.</p><p>“Jim--” Dwight whimpered as the younger man pressed his entire length into the tight heat of his ass. His anus clenched and unclenched around Jim’s member, a flash of white hot pain turning into a dull ache as his body adjusted to the intrusion. The older man felt full, but in a good way. He pressed his nose into the nape of Jim’s neck, inhaling his scent. His brain was a muddle of conflicting thoughts and sensations swirling together like a storm and he felt as though his mind and his body were at war with one another. His heart twisted violently in his chest and his eyes moistened with tears. He had never been so intimate, so totally trusting and vulnerable, with another human being, and yet he felt as though there were millions of miles between them.</p><p>Jim pulled out slowly, following it with a quick, sharp thrust. A jolt of pleasure shuddered through Dwight’s body and he ground his teeth, a groan hissing out between them. He wrapped his arms around the younger man, blunt fingernails tearing into the exposed flesh on Jim’s back. The almond-haired man fisted the sheets as he withdrew his cock and plunged himself back in again, a little bit more aggressively than the first time. It seemed that his intoxication had little to dampen his raging libido.</p><p>Jim’s mind was spinning in a drunken haze of mixed emotions that he was much too aroused and way too faded to decipher. He ran his tongue along the length of Dwight’s neck, tasting the salty tang of his sweat. Jim was struck by his desire to utterly possess the man beneath him. He wanted to burn himself into Dwight’s body like a brand, mark him so that he could never forget how Jim had felt buried deep inside of him. His slender hips stuttered against the other man’s thighs, the harsh sound of skin slapping against skin filling the otherwise quiet room. The messy haired brunette increased the pace and force of his thrusts, fucking Dwight into the mattress.</p><p>Dwight’s breath hitched when Jim shifted his position so that he grazed that spot inside of Dwight that caused him to see stars with each thrust. The younger salesman’s movements became rougher and more haphazard as he pistoned into the man trapped underneath him. Dwight tried, and failed, to extinguish the needy moans that were erupting from him as he writhed beneath the other man. Dwight's breath caught in his throat when he felt Jim slide a hand in between their bodies, wrapping it around his throbbing cock. He stroked him jerkily, trying to match the movement of his hips.</p><p>“Oh God!” Dwight choked on his own words as his orgasm built in the base of his balls, his stomach burning white-hot as he teetered on the edge. The older man grabbed the back of Jim’s head, threading his shaking fingers in his co-worker’s messy, soft curls and pulled him down into a desperate lip-lock, moaning into his mouth. Dwight’s entire body started to tremble violently as he toppled over the edge, coming so hard that he nearly forgot to breath as he ejaculated into Jim’s magnificent hand and onto his own bare stomach.</p><p>Jim broke the kiss, pressing their sweaty foreheads together as he thrust into him with renewed vigor, chasing his own orgasm. The younger man moved to bury his face in the soft curve of Dwight’s neck and the older man was startled when he felt a sudden rush of wetness against his skin. He was shocked to realize that Jim was crying. Dwight started to say his name, but Jim pushed their air out of his lungs as he drove into him, the pace of his hips growing more forceful and erratic. He exhaled in harsh gasps. He fucked Dwight frantically, his thrusts deep and bordering on violent. Dwight tried to speak a second time, but his words stuck in his throat as Jim pounded into him. Instead, he decided to dig his finger’s deeper into the slighter man’s surprisingly broad shoulders, holding on for dear life as the tousle-haired brunette drove into him at a punishing speed.</p><p>Jim made noises that were smothered by the older man’s flesh, but Dwight thought that they sounded somewhere between a moan and a choking sob. Dwight’s heart panged deep in his chest and he clenched his eyes shut tightly. He squeezed Jim, holding him as close to his body as he possibly could.</p><p>Dwight felt Jim stiffen on top of him as he came with one final thrust. His dick twitched inside of him as the younger man spilled his seed into him. An unfamiliar, but pleasant, heat filled Dwight’s ass.</p><p>The chestnut-haired man’s arms began to wobble and with a sharp sigh, they gave out. His sweaty body fell on top of Dwight’s, their heaving chests, sticky with sweat, pressed together.</p><p>They laid in silence for a while in the semi-darkness of Jim's room. Their haggard breathing mingled together, their heartbeats pulsating in unison. Finally, Jim pushed himself off of Dwight with shaking arms. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over the side. He buried his face in his hands and expelled a quiet, dejected sigh. Concerned, Dwight sat up, ignoring the mess on his stomach and the cum inside his ass, and crawled across the sheets. He adjusted himself so that he was sitting on his legs right behind Jim. “Is something wrong?” he asked, reaching out to place a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Jim shoved his hand off of him gruffly, rising to his feet abruptly.</p><p>“I think you should go home, Dwight.” Jim told him, his voice low and surly.</p><p>Dwight was not sure that he heard him correctly. Jim had never pushed Dwight away from him directly after they had finished messing around, even at work. He had just been more intimate and vulnerable with Jim than he had ever been with another human being and Jim was dismissing him? What the hell was going on? “W-What?” Dwight stammered, hearing the tears beginning to soak his tone.</p><p>“This was fun, Dwight,” the slender brunette replied, his voice even in spite of his extreme inebriation. Jim refused to look at the man on his bed. He swallowed thickly and steeled himself, praying that he didn’t get weepy. “It isn’t like this is something serious.” Jim continued, his tone flat and mechanical. He muscled through his sentences, feeling as though he was trying to crush his feelings with each and every word. He tried to stamp down any tender emotion that might have wormed its way past the numbness brought on by the alcohol. “So it’s better if you’re not here when Mark gets home.” Jim was so quiet that even in the silence of the house, Dwight struggled to hear him. His tone made it clear that this was non-negotiable.</p><p>Dwight was stunned. He might have muttered an affirmative, but he was in such a daze that he could not quite remember what he had said. He moved sluggishly, like a zombie, cleaning up the mess on his stomach and pulling on his clothes in a daze. It felt as though he was attempting to swim through wet concrete. A dark, hard mass of repressed emotion was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>Dwight had always understood somewhere in his brain that this thing that he had with Jim was not practical, it was merely physical and more importantly, temporary. What he had not been prepared for was the awful wave of depression that enveloped him, washing over him like a rush of frozen water, leaving him filled with a cold sense of emptiness. It was as if a part of his soul had been violently torn out of him without warning, leaving him a hollow shell.</p><p>Dwight managed to make it into his car before he broke down.</p><p>He cried for what like hours. Loud, wailing moans, like the calls of a wounded animal, spilled from his mouth unbidden. His body shook with the intensity of his sobs, shoulders trembling as a seemingly never-ending stream of tears spilled from his cornflower blue eyes, blurring his vision. He had no clue that anything or anyone was capable of devastating him like this, of filling him with an overwhelming hurt that was so excruciatingly painful a part of him wished that he could die just to ease the pain, if only for a moment.</p><p>Why was this hurting so bad? Dwight had comprehended from the very beginning that Jim would never view him as anything more than a temporary sex partner -- hell, it was his idea -- and he had managed to convince himself that he was fine with that arrangement. It was only now, after the fact, that he had discovered that he had been wrong. Woefully, terribly, dreadfully wrong.</p><p>***</p><p>Jim stood in the shower, his banging forehead pressed against the cool tile. Warm water cascaded over his body, traveling down his back in rivulets. He had no clue how long he had been standing there, water pouring down onto his head, flattening his hair to his skin. The alcohol coursing through his veins had begun to lose its potency and his emotions were rising to the surface like bile creeping up the back of his throat, overwhelming him entirely and he realized suddenly that there were tears coursing down his cheeks. How long had he been crying?</p><p>This whole thing with Dwight was just a cliché office affair, a fling. Jim had been aware from the start that what they had was ephemeral, fleeting. A momentary blip in the long course that was their lives. Somehow, he had managed to delude himself into thinking that there was something more to their relationship than just skinship. Jim recognized that he had just convinced himself that Dwight had the same kinds of feelings regarding him as he did towards the other man. Jim had just assumed that the universe would bend to his will, molding itself to his desires. And in the end, it had only served to let him down when it didn’t meet his overinflated expectations. This was exactly why he had never totally invested himself into anything, because that way nothing could ever actually hurt him.</p><p><em>God, I’m so pathetic, </em>he thought.</p><p>He had no idea where to go from here. Did he continue their affair, conscious of the face that he was -- he couldn’t think of anything else to call it -- <em>falling in love</em> with someone who would never feel the same? Or did he terminate the relationship entirely and try to preserve what was left of his heart? Jim could feel the beginnings of a monster of a headache creeping up on him. There was a sick thrumming in his temples that was starting to make him feel nauseous.</p><p>Jim finished his shower, barely bothering to dry off. He wrapped one of their white, fluffy towels love on his narrow hips He trudged down the hallway, water dripping down his body and onto the floor. He slogged back to his bedroom in a half-drunken daze, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the carpet behind him. The tousle-haired brunette managed to make his way to his bed, throwing himself into the bedclothes. He wormed his way underneath the comforter, the sheets dampening underneath him.</p><p>He slipped into a drunken slumber.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pam concludes that men are idiots and decides that it's time to intervene.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jim was late to work the next day.</p><p>Dwight was familiar with Jim’s frequent tardiness, so he barely noticed when the other man wasn’t at his desk at a quarter past nine o’ clock in the morning. Though it would typically annoy the hell out of him to see Jim neglect his job in this manner, Dwight was almost grateful that Jim was absent because he was still confused and emotionally raw after their previous night’s encounter.</p><p>At about forty-five minutes past the start of the day without so much as a text, Pam Beesly was beginning to worry about her fluffy-haired friend.</p><p>The chipper receptionist had been paying extra close attention to Dwight since the moment he had clocked in, hoping to discern any juicy details pertaining to his date with Jim; but when the bespectacled man arrived at the office, she was surprised to see that he looked depressed and dejected. His shoulders were slumped and his walk was totally absent its usual confident swagger. When she tried to greet him, Dwight only glanced at her in a dazed sort of way, his aquamarine eyes glazed over, as though he had been a million miles away and the sound of her voice had forcibly yanked him back to reality. Pam was startled to see that his fierce blue eyes, magnified by the lenses of his glasses, were puffy and red rimmed.</p><p>Her co-worker muttered a generic greeting to her and trudged towards his desk, clearly lost in his thoughts. She observed, with mounting interest, as he sloughed off his blazer and sat down at his desk, trying to get to work. It did not take a trained eye to notice that Dwight’s mind was elsewhere. He was lacking the signature enthusiasm that he usually approached his job with.</p><p>Dwight kept shooting furtive glances towards the door, his dark eyebrows furrowing with increased tension. Pam could see a mix of anxious anticipation and worry reflected in his cerulean eyes.</p><p>She covertly slid her desk drawer open, fishing around blindly until her fingers wrapped around her cellphone. The perky receptionist flipped it open under the cover of her desk and quickly located Jim’s number in her contacts. She fired off a quick text, snapping her phone shut with a satisfying clack and shoving it back into the drawer. Pam scanned the office to see if anyone was watching her. Angela might have been giving her a judgmental look, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything because that was the way that she looked at everyone. Pam thought that her face might have been permanently frozen in that disapproving expression.</p><p>When Jim had not replied to any of her messages in over an hour, she attempted to call him directly, but there was no answer. After two hours, Michael approached her to inquire his whereabouts and the curly haired receptionist concocted a lie on the spot, claiming that Jim had already called her to report to her that he was having car trouble. She fabricated the story with such ease, in fact, that it surprised her. She was quite the amazing liar. <em>Maybe I should consider sales, </em>she thought.</p><p>***</p><p>Jim rolled into the office around noon.</p><p>He looked like a hot mess. His signature, perfectly mussed bedhead was a tangle of acorn-brown curls. His pearl-white button-down shirt was untucked and his clothing was crumpled and creased, making it appear as though he had slept in it. His tie was slung around his collar loosely like a feather boa. He was carrying his blazer in his hand, hooked on his finger. Jim was also sporting a pair of sunglasses and had an enormous Styrofoam cup of coffee clutched in his other hand like it was a life preserver.</p><p>“Walk of Shame.” Pam mumbled under her breath.</p><p>Jim flung his blazer over the back of his chair unceremoniously and strolled over to the reception area, leaning against the counter in what he hoped was a nonchalant fashion, but he could tell from the expression that Pam was wearing that he had clearly missed the mark. He should have known better than to think that she would not bring attention to his sorry state.</p><p>He tried to smile at her, clutching the edge of the desk with white-knuckled fingers, praying to every deity that he could think of that his legs didn't randomly turn to jell-o and give out underneath him.</p><p>***</p><p>Jim had awoken that morning bathed in a cold sweat, the shrill shriek of his alarm clock penetrating his ears like a knife.</p><p>He expelled out a long, tortured groan, burying his face into his pillow. He swiped a blind hand out, feeling around for the offending machine, that to him sounded more like a screeching harpy than a cheap alarm clock. When his fingers finally found the infernal contraption, he grasped it, yanking it roughly out of the wall socket and flinging it across the room. He heard it smack into the wall and fall to the floor. He would probably have to buy a new one on his way home from work.</p><p>As he slowly became acclimated to the fact that he was conscious, it did not take long for his hangover to make its presence known. A sick thumping started in the base of his skull, slowly creeping forward towards his forehead until his entire brain was enveloped in a cloak of agonizing pain. His mouth was dry and ashy.</p><p>Jim struggled to push himself up into a sitting position, a piteous whine escaping him as he did so. He clutched his pounding head and released a muffled groan into his hands. The contents of his stomach roiled painfully, acid bubbling inside of his gut like hot lava trapped in his abdomen.</p><p>He was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of nausea that was so violent it nearly toppled him over. He slapped his hand over his mouth. Jim tried to stumble out of his bed, but the bedclothes tangled around his feet, sending him lurching forward and he landed on his knees hard. He grunted in pain but was thankfully able to keep his hand sealed over his mouth.</p><p>The almond-haired brunette struggled to shuffle forward on his knees. He stretched his free hand out to grasp the very edge of the wastebasket and drag it towards himself. He leaned over it and retched violently. Jim grimaced, his nose wrinkling in disgust as a mixture of onions and tequila assaulted his tender olfactory senses. What had made him think that eating a massive pile of deep fried onions drenched in sour cream was a good idea? He was well aware that he could not hold his liquor, so he typically tried to avoid using alcohol to mask his problems. He obviously had not been thinking clearly. Jim expelled another depressed sigh.</p><p>Jim tried to collect himself.</p><p>He decided that he would take something for his raging headache and hopefully that would reduce the thunderstorm swirling around inside his skull to a dull rain. If he could manage to get a shower and put on some clothes without passing out, he might be able to make it to the office by noon.</p><p>Jim’s thoughts started to wander as he drifted towards the bathroom. It wasn’t long before his mind settled on the image of his co-worker slash FWB and he felt a sudden rush of ice cold panic when he thought about confronting Dwight, especially in this state. But he was the one who had kicked the older man out the night before, so there was no way that he could skip out on work without looking suspicious and possibly revealing his true feelings.</p><p>His stomach lurched again.</p><p>***</p><p>“Oh my <em>God</em>, Jim.” Pam hissed, her tone was a mixture of shock and worry with some anger laced through her words. “Where have you been?” she interrogated, glaring at him, her aquamarine gaze sharp. “I called your cell phone like a thousand times!” the redhead added, clearly exasperated.</p><p>“Sorry,” Jim apologized, gulping down a mouthful of plain, black coffee that was so thick he could practically chew it. “It died.”</p><p>“You look like you slept in a garbage dump.” Pam chided, her tone shifting from one of exasperation to scolding. “I take it that last night didn’t go well?” she questioned, gesturing vaguely to his disheveled appearance and watched as Jim’s expression clouded over. She pursed her lips.</p><p>“I got fuck-buddy zoned,” he confided to her, his tone flat. Jim glanced back towards their cluster of desks, noticing that Dwight was still absent.</p><p>“He’s in Michael’s office.” Pam answered his unspoken question and Jim turned back to face her, exhaling a long, coffee scented sigh in her direction. The coppery-haired woman wrinkled her nose delicately in distaste. “Your breath smells like a Starbucks,” she informed her hungover co-worker, taking a mint from the plastic jar on the counter and thrusting it at him.</p><p>Jim tried to flash her his usual cocky smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. He accepted her offering, popping the mint into his mouth. He gave her an appreciative nod, toasting her with his coffee cup as made his way over to his desk. He flung himself into his chair, allowing his messenger bag to slide off of his shoulder and onto the floor as his body went boneless.</p><p>He leaned his head backward, another dejected sigh gliding past his lips. He tried to sit up straight, but he ended up bowing forward, too sick and tired to bother. He had just started to slowly shift into work-mode, sorting through and organizing the mess of papers on his desk when he glanced up in time to see Michael and Dwight exit the former’s office.</p><p>Jim studied Dwight closely behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, his sage-green eyes narrowing as he followed his every move. The older man looked the same as he did any other day of the year. He was dressed in a short-sleeved, button-down shirt in a dull color and an ugly tie paired with an even uglier pair of dark, loose fitting slacks. The younger salesman felt a growing ball of frustration gnawing away at his guts like an ulcer. Why could Dwight act as though everything was alright when Jim felt like he was unwinding inside?</p><p>Michael honed onto Jim immediately, like an obnoxious heat-seeking missile clothed in an unflattering navy suit. He bolted directly towards his desk with surprising speed. It did not escape his attention that Dwight, who was usually at Michael’s heels like a small, flat-faced dog, had hesitated to follow him.</p><p>Hey, hey, hey!” his overly enthusiastic boss bellowed in greeting and it reverberated in Jim's head, bouncing around his skull like a pinball and causing his brain to start hammering again. Jim valiantly resisted the urge to strangle him with his bare hands. “Looks like <em>somebody</em> had one hell of a night!” Michael goaded, practically shouting into Jim’s ear. “Same clothes as yesterday. <em>Walk of Shame</em>!” he teased him in one of his patented silly voices that made him sound like a demented muppet.</p><p>Jim eyed Dwight, who had stiffened noticeably when Michael alluded to sex. His crystalline blue eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, large and pitch black. The younger man frowned, his thick eyebrows furrowing over the rim of his sunglasses, making him resemble a harried detective on a cop show. Was the very notion of them being in a public relationship -- even one that was merely sexual -- that fucking horrible? Was <em>Dwight K. Schrute </em>actually embarrassed of him?</p><p>Ignoring Dwight entirely, Jim turned to face Michael. “Just one too many drinks with a friend,” he fibbed, his tone frosty.</p><p>Michael made a couple more shitty, borderline homophobic, jokes, but they barely fazed Jim. He was more than used to the likes of Michael Scott and Todd Packer poking fun at him for being what they considered queer. After several minutes of being forcibly subjected to Michael Scott’s personal office stand-up act, the tousle-haired brunette managed to redirect his boss’ attention onto something else and watched him flit away like an oversized, hyperactive butterfly.</p><p>Jim returned his attention to his secret lover. Even with his head banging like someone had taken a jackhammer to the side of his skull, he had noticed that Dwight had not been as quick to laugh at their boss’ jokes as he usually was. Any other time, Dwight would have been doubled over, especially if the bud of the joke was Jim. The younger man frowned.</p><p>Dwight sunk into his chair, fixating his sky-blue gaze downward, trying not to look at the other man. “Your shirt is untucked,” he pointed out under his breath, but his voice was absent his typical chastising tone. “It’s against the dress code.” Dwight reminded him, his voice wavering so slightly that it was nearly imperceptible. He thought that Jim looked awful, like a hobo. His hair was a jumble of unruly curls and his clothing was disheveled. Although he was easy-going, Dwight had never known Jim to come into work looking like he had pulled his outfit out of a dumpster beforehand. Worst of all, it was obvious that whatever had been bothering him last night had not resolved itself. Dwight could feel an icy mass of dread forming in his chest, his stomach churning uncomfortably. “So are the sunglasses,” he added automatically, before he thought better of it.</p><p>Jim made a disgruntled noise, something like a scoff, but it ended up sounding more like a bark. He snatched his phone up angrily, yanking the receiver from the cradle so hard he almost broke the cord. Dwight chanced a quick glance at his face. Due to the dark lenses obscuring his co-worker’s eyes, the older of the two could not quire discern the emotion on his face, but he was positive that ie he could see his eyes, they would have been filled with revulsion. “Worry about yourself, Dwight,” he spoke quietly and evenly, but his tone was laced with a poisonous anger.</p><p>Dwight opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it and clamped it shut, sucking his thin lips into his mouth. He returned his gaze to his computer, trying his best to ignore the tears that were beginning to obscure his vision. He kept it together as long as could manage, stealing glances at Jim, who had seamlessly shifted into his salesman mode. His customer service voice was so disarming that had he not been staring directly at the man, Dwight would have never suspected that he was anything less than laidback and cheerful.</p><p>After a few hours, Dwight could no longer keep his emotions from bubbling up to the surface. He excused himself, escaping into the bathroom and stealing away into the stall furthest from the door before finally breaking down into silent tears.</p><p>***</p><p>Sometime later, Jim had managed to work his way through the gigantic cup of gas station coffee that he had been nursing and decided to make his way into the breakroom for a refresher. He huffed out an irritated sigh when he spotted the empty pot.</p><p>He got to work making a fresh one, grumbling to himself, too engrossed in his task to look up as the door opened.</p><p>Jim jumped when he felt a set of familiar, calloused fingers glide gently down the length of his forearm. Recognizing the touch immediately, he steeled himself. His hangover had receded enough that he no longer felt like there was a discotheque trapped in his brain and he had been able to remove his sunglasses without succumbing to the penetrating white fluorescent lights that lined the office ceiling. Despite the fact that he was feeling a bit better physically, he was still an emotional trainwreck and the last thing he wanted was to have a full on breakdown at work.</p><p>“Jim,” Dwight murmured, placing his hand on top of the younger man’s hand. Jim pulled his hand away quickly, as if he had been burned, oblivious to the hurt that flashed across the other man’s features.</p><p>Jim rapidly turned back to his task and continued to prepare the coffee. His fingers were trembling as he measured out the instant coffee and poured it into the filter. He hoped that Dwight wrote his shaking hands off a side effect of his obvious hangover and not the myriad of conflicting emotions whirling around inside of him like a cyclone. “I’m not in the mood right now, Dwight,” he bit out, sounding much nastier than he had intended. His voice, unlike his hands, was surprisingly steady in spite of the way his heart was twisting violently in his chest.</p><p>Dwight was confused. What had he done that made Jim so upset with him? If anyone should have been upset, it was him, since he was the one who had been rejected unceremoniously and kicked out of Jim’s bed directly after their first time sleeping together. “Mood for what?”</p><p>“To get you off.” Jim replied, callously.</p><p>A sharp jolt of pain pierced through Dwight’s chest like an arrow to the heart. His cheeks flushed a dark, ugly shade of mauve and he frowned, his eyebrows drawing together in agitation. Dwight <em>despised </em>being vulnerable. He would have rather died than allow anyone to get a whiff of weakness from him, so he tried to temper his emotions. His hurt mixed with an unexpected wave of anger. “What the hell are you talking about?” he questioned, his voice coming out in an uneven squawk.</p><p>Jim chewed on the inside of his cheek, gnawing on the tender skin until the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. His thoughts flickered back to the night before. His memories were blurred by the alcohol, but he remembered how Dwight had felt in his arms. The way his skin had felt beneath his fingers, soft and warm. The way his voice caught in his throat when Jim stroked him. The way that the lines in his forehead would deepen, his brows drawing together, when he was nearing the edge. Jim could not keep pretending that this was purely physical -- he was in love.</p><p>Except that it didn’t matter if he was in love because Dwight didn’t feel the same and Jim knew that if he did not extricate himself from the relationship now, he might never be able to recover. “I-I think we should end this,” he said, his voice hollow. He couldn’t look at him, praying that he didn’t burst into tears.</p><p>Dwight felt time grind to a halt.</p><p>His entire world was crumbling rapidly around him. He felt like he was stuck and a mine shaft that was caving in, trapping him beneath the rubble. “W-what?” he stammered and his tongue felt heavy, as though it was weighed down by stones, his words thick and blurred. “Why?” he pressed, trying to touch the younger man’s shoulder, but Jim flinched away</p><p>Jim’s stomach twisted into a tight coil. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to whirl around and grab his co-worker and pull him into his arms. To kiss him, out in the open, and not give two shits who might see them. To let everyone know <em>exactly </em>how he felt about Dwight K. Schrute. Jim desperately wished that he could tell him that he was completely, madly, irrevocably in love with him, but the knowledge that he would be swiftly rejected locked his tongue in place. “Because it’s just a fling, right?” Jim heard himself say. His voice did not sound like his own, it sounded foreign and far away, as though he were speaking underwater. “It had to end sometime,” he muttered.</p><p>When the coffee maker dinged, signaling that he it was finished brewing, Jim lurched to attention and snatched up his mug, rushing towards the door. “Sorry,” he apologized quickly, running out of the kitchen without waiting to hear Dwight’s response.</p><p>Dwight watched Jim bolt from the breakroom with wide-eyed shock.</p><p>When the door slammed shut behind him, time restarted and Dwight suddenly felt the entire world shift on its axis. He staggered to the white, plastic table and collapsed into one of the chairs. He felt totally numb, as though someone had reached into his brain and flipped off his emotions like a light switch. Everything around him turned to static and a buzzing noise filled his ears, blocking out all sounds aside from the uneven thrum of his own heart, beating in his chest. Dwight stared blankly down at the table, not really seeing anything.</p><p>Things had ended with Jim before they had the chance to really begin. Dwight realized that he had just lost the chance to be honest with the other man about how he actually felt about him. He had been too much of a coward to admit to the person he was having sex with that he had developed romantic feelings for him and now he had no way of telling him. He had been so terrified that everything with Jim would come to an end if he was honest that he had allowed it to reach its conclusion without ever getting to express himself.</p><p>“Do you want to talk about it?”</p><p>Dwight nearly shot out of his chair, putting his arms up into a defensive stance on instinct, ready to attack any enemy that may have come upon him. Instead of a villain, he found himself staring directly into the searing blue, judgmental gaze of the copper-haired receptionist. He tried to compose himself swiftly, staring down his co-worker as though she was a bear in the wild. In truth, he would have preferred the bear.</p><p>Pam glared at him steadily, not even blinking. He had to admire her moxie. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Dwight replied flatly, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses on his pug-like nose.</p><p>Pam did not respond automatically. Her expression remained utterly stoic as she lifted a mug to her lips, peering at him over the rim, her brilliant blue eyes dissecting him with startling scrutiny, as if he were a specimen on display.</p><p>The perceptive receptionist had been paying close attention to the way that Jim and Dwight were interacting since the moment that Jim showed up to the office looking as though a frat house had vomited all over him. If Jim was correct that their bespectacled co-worker had rejected him, then why did he look like someone had taken a hammer to one of his prized bobble-heads?</p><p>Pam loved Jim dearly and thought the world of him, but she also thought that he could be a stubborn idiot. She was well aware that behind his laidback, noncommittal swagger, Jim Halpert was a sensitive guy. He went to great lengths to protect himself from being hurt by keeping everyone at a distance, never allowing himself to be emotionally vulnerable. He was all easygoing smiles and subtle, bantering flirtation. Jim rarely put effort into anything that he did not feel passionately about and he had clearly put the effort in with Dwight. But he had of course, pulled back the instant that he had gotten hurt.</p><p>Dwight Schrute, on the other hand, was a completely different kind of stubborn idiots. He was an obsequious over-achiever who greatly overestimated his own talents. He may have fancied himself a level-headed leader, but the reality was that he was easily flustered and eager to please. He was ignorant and extremely gullible, which had made him the perfect target for Jim’s pranks.</p><p>Pam thought that Dwight could be terribly annoying and messing with him was a fun way to distract from the tedium of the office, but she wondered how in the world she had not caught on to Jim’s little crush a whole lot sooner. Her friend was like a little boy on the playground, flicking the nose of the nerdy kid with glasses in order to get his attention.</p><p>She had concluded, through observation, that the real issue was that both of them were total fucking morons.</p><p>***</p><p>After his confrontation with Dwight in the breakroom, Jim had bolted out of there like he had been shot.</p><p>He barreled towards his desk with single-minded focus. It was only then that he realized that he had an empty mug clutched in his hand.</p><p>A small hand whipped out and snatched his arm.</p><p>Pam had witnessed the entire event through the small glass window where she had been "discreetly" monitoring the drama from the safety of her desk. Even without the benefit of audio, the redhead had managed to surmise enough about the conversation to conclude that it had been an absolute dumpster fire.</p><p>She made her way over to the copier so that she had a clearer line of sight into the breakroom. When Jim made his harried exit, she covertly stepped out to grab the svelte brunette’s arm, forcing him to whirl around to face her. “I need help with the copier.” Pam lied, eyeing him with her shrewd, cornflower blue gaze.</p><p>Jim recognized the expression on her face all too well. He breathed out a long, exhausted sigh, hanging his head, resigning himself to the face that he was about to face the Beesly Inquisition.</p><p>“What did you do?” she hissed, her plucked-to-the-wire, coppery eyebrows furrowing with suspicion.</p><p>Jim flushed, shifting from one foot to the other in obvious discomfort, his eyes darting around, searching for an exit. Pam noticed that his sage-green eyes were glistening, like he was a step away from bursting into tears. She felt a flash of pity. Pam had never seen her friend look so totally wrecked.</p><p>“I ended it,” he explained, his voice cracking like a middle schooler going through puberty. “I couldn’t do it, Pam.” Jim mumbled, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. “I think that I might be in love with him," he admitted, scrubbing his tired eyes with the heel of his palm. “I can’t just be a <em>recreational activity</em>.” Jim spat, placing the most menacing set of air quotes around the phrase “recreational activity” that Pam had ever seen in her life.</p><p>“Recreational activity?” Pam repeated, incredulously. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>“That’s what he called it.” Jim explained spitefully, running his fingers through his already messy birch hair, causing the ends to stick up at an odd angle. “He got all jealous because the waitress was flirting with me--”</p><p>“The waitress was hitting on you?” Pam interrupted, unable to keep an amused smile off of her face. “How could you tell?”</p><p>“Pam, please--” Jim scoffed, placing a hand over his heart, feigning outrage. The copper haired receptionist rolled her eyes in response and Jim cautioned, “Not a word, Beesly.” While he waved a warning finger in front of her nose. “Anyway, I kinda made fun of him--” he admitted, shrugging sheepishly.</p><p>“I’m shocked.” Pam replied, clearly far from it.</p><p>“Shut up,” the lanky brunette snarked. “Anyway,” Jim continued, his typically cool demeanor was beginning to crack at the edges, threatening to crumble to pieces at his feet. “I asked what he thought our relationship was and he called it a <em>recreational activity</em>.” the lanky brunette grumbled, his tone a mixture of hurt and spite.</p><p>Pam pursed her lips, her pink mouth drawing up into a small bow. That was an odd way to classify a relationship, even for Dwight. She opened her mouth to respond when Michael swept out of his office with a flourish, hollering to The Temp that he needed him to leave immediately and go to the nearest Sheetz to pick him up a limited edition flavored milkshake. Ryan sunk down in his chair, trying to blend in with the scenery.</p><p>“I’ll go!” Jim volunteered loudly, stepping forward and raising his hand. Pam’s eyebrows shot up so high that they blended into her copper colored hairline. She stared perplexedly as her lanky co-worker walked forward awkwardly, his long gait making him resemble a malfunctioning marionette. “I have to pick something anyway,” the tall man lied, his nonchalant façade flickering slightly. Pam knew that it was likely that she was the only one who noticed the tremor of despair that flashed across his features.</p><p>Jim was out of the door like a shot, had he been going any faster, he would have left a smoking, Jim-shaped hole in his wake.</p><p>Pam glanced over towards the breakroom where she spotted Dwight, who was still sitting at the table, glaring down at the white plastic surface like he was trying to burn holes in it with his eyes. She observed the quiet, bespectacled man with a mixture of annoyance and intrigue. The redheaded receptionist was beginning to get the impression that this entire situation was some sort of sitcom-level misunderstanding between two grown men who had no concept of how to stop playing games and actually communicate with one another like grown ass adults.</p><p>***</p><p>“Cut the shit, Schrute.” Pam snapped.</p><p>Dwight pulled up short, pale blue eyes blinking rapidly. His face was twisted up in confusion and he was peering at her like she had sprouted a second head, and Pam realized that this might be the first time that she had ever actually sworn in front of her stodgy co-worker.</p><p>“Pam!” Dwight exclaimed, shocked.</p><p>Pam brushed off his concerns with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Listen, I already know about you and Jim,” she explained, cutting to the chase. She watched as Dwight’s ears blazed red. He gaped at her, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. She glowered at him and Dwight gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down agitatedly.</p><p>“H-how long?” he managed finally, his voice clearly strained. Pam had never seen Dwight look this way before. He sounded like a totally different person -- he choked on his words, his voice coming out all wrong.</p><p>“Not long,” she found herself trying to reassure Dwight, who was staring at her like a deer in the headlights. His crystalline blue eyes were huge and wet with tears, like rain slicked marbles augmented by the lenses of his glasses. “He told me before your date at Chili’s yesterday.”</p><p>Dwight’s dark brows furrowed in confusion as he mouthed the word “date.” Finally, he released a long, dejected sigh and dropped his gaze back to the stained plastic table. “Well it doesn’t matter anymore.” Dwight said sadly, running his fingers through his cropped, birch-colored hair. “He just ended it,” the older man explained, despondently. Pam’s eyebrows sailed upward, suddenly intrigued.</p><p>She would never have classified herself as a gossip, but that’s precisely what she was, wasn’t it? She could not resist sticking her nose in other people’s business. Even if she didn’t spend her time spreading the information she obtained or holding it over anyone’s heads, she relished in knowing everyone’s personal drama. However, this situation was a little different because Jim was her friend and she wanted him to be happy, but she also couldn’t quite stop herself from wanting to mess with the two of them.</p><p>“How do you feel about Jim?” Pam asked, matter-of-factly. Dwight made a strangled, sputtering noise that made him sound like a disgruntled emu. His face flushed a deep scarlet. It was quickly becoming clear to Pam that these two men were completely crazy about each other, but both of them were also self-involved idiots, oblivious to the fact that they felt the same.</p><p>The coppery-haired secretary hummed, sipping at her coffee. Dwight stared up at her, unable to suppress the look of panic that danced across his features. “I--” he stammered, struggling to find his words, searching for the right thing to say. Suddenly, his face crumpled in on itself. “Oh God, Pam," he wheezed, “I really like him.”</p><p>Pam shielded an excited smile behind the lip of her mug. “Have you actually told him that?” she questioned. Her uptight co-worker gave her an affronted look.</p><p>“Of course not,” Dwight replied, curtly. “I didn’t want him to end it,” the older man admitted, his sentence petering off towards the end when he realized how ridiculous that sounded given the present circumstances. He hung his head down dejectedly.</p><p>“So, say something now.” Pam suggested. Dwight’s head shot back up and he stared at her as though she had just ordered him to gnaw his own arm off. She rolled her eyes at him, unfazed. “Don’t give me that look.” the receptionist ordered, growing more irritated with each passing second. Were all men this stupid or just the ones who worked for this God forsaken paper supply company? “If he already ended it, then you don’t have anything to lose by being honest with him about how you feel.” Pam argued.</p><p>Dwight sucked his lower lip into his mouth, gnawing worriedly on the chapped flesh, carefully considering his co-worker’s words. Pam did have a point, what else could he possibly lose? Jim had just terminated their friends-with-benefits arrangement and did he really want to live out the rest of his life without ever knowing what might have happened if he had just admitted to Jim that he was madly in love with him?</p><p><em>Oh God, that’s what this feeling is, isn’t it?</em> Dwight wondered to himself. He was in love with him. He was <em>in love </em>with Jim Halpert. He was hopelessly, completely, ridiculously in love with Jim, a man who only a few months ago he could barely stand to be in the same room with. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to burst into hysterical laughter. <em>I am so fucked,</em> he thought.</p><p>Dwight shut his eyes, inhaling in through his nose and exhaling slowly out of his mouth. He tried to re-center himself like when he meditated during his Gojo-Ryu Karate classes. After a few more measured breaths, he opened his eyes to find Pam still watching him with mild interest.</p><p>“I’ll do it.”</p><p>***</p><p>Jim decided to take the longest route to the gas station that he could think of in order to keep himself out of the office as long as possible. He flipped through the radio stations at top speed, more soothed by the action of pressing the button than the music itself.</p><p>Once he arrived at the Sheetz, he took his time, filling his tank at a snail’s speed before pulling into the parking spot farthest away from the entrance and meandering towards the door at a leisurely pace.</p><p>He loitered around inside the attached convenience store for another twelve minutes or so, wandering aimlessly up and down the aisles, not searching for anything in particular. Jim was well aware that he was just stalling for time, trying to figure out he was going to face the co-worker he had just dumped. For a moment, he considered manufacturing some excuse and heading straight home, thereby avoiding a conversation with Dwight entirely.</p><p>Finally, he started to make his way back towards the front counter, his hands still empty. Jim felt his eyes moisten and he bit back any tears that threatened to escape. He felt utterly pathetic.</p><p>“Can I have one of the seasonal shakes?” Jim inquired, glancing up at the menu to see what the limited edition shake of the month was. “The pumpkin pie.”</p><p>Jim must have looked an absolute mess because the little elderly woman at the register gave him a second, small shake on the house. She slid his free milkshake towards him with a gentle, sympathetic smile that reminded him of his paternal grandmother before she passed away. “Thank you,” he murmured, absent his usual bravado.</p><p>“Anytime, hon.”</p><p>Jim sipped at his seasonal shake, licking a little of the whipped cream on top absentmindedly as he slowly drove back towards Dunder-Mifflin. Once again, his thoughts drifted to the actual problem at hand and he contemplated how to handle this situation now that everything had blown up in his face. Unless he wanted to quit (which might not have been the worst option) he was going to have to face Dwight eventually. He decided that his best course of action was to distance himself as much as he could without being too conspicuous.  </p><p>It shouldn’t have been too difficult to accomplish, since Jim had always been very good at pretending that everything was alright, even when it wasn’t. This was all his own fault, really. He had known the parameters of their arrangement from the get-go and still he had selfishly pushed Dwight for something that he did not have the ability to give.</p><p>Jim would erect a wall around his emotions, in order to protect them and hopefully over time, his feelings would begin to dissipate. He finished the rest of his shake in the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot. When he was finished he exhaled a long, tired sigh, blowing a wisp of his chestnut-colored bangs from his eyes.</p><p>Eventually, he climbed out of the car and made his way into the building.</p><p>***</p><p>The only person who noticed when Jim strolled back into the office was Pam, who gave him a little nod by way of greeting, while she continued to chatter into the phone. She had the receiver trapped in between her cheek and shoulder so that she could jot something down on one of the dozens of pads scattered across her desk.</p><p>Jim strode over to the reception area, setting Michael’s milkshake on the countertop. He leaned his upper body against the desk, bouncing his leg impatiently as he waited for Pam to tie up the call she was on. Truthfully, he was still stalling, trying to give himself some time to put up his barriers.</p><p>“Jim,” the sound of Dwight’s voice saying his name startled him so badly that he nearly jumped out of his skin. Jim swallowed thickly, desperately trying to swallow down the wave of panic and sadness that was threatening to overwhelm him completely. The tall, tousle-haired brunette took a calm, measured breath and turned to face the man standing beside him.</p><p>“Yeah, Dwight?”</p><p>Dwight looked as stressed as he felt. His expression was pinched with worry. Jim thought that the rims of his icy blue eyes looked pink and a bit swollen. Jim was overcome with another wave of conflicting emotions, torn between running away and enveloping him in his arms.</p><p>Dwight chewed on his lip nervously and Jim had the sudden urge to grab Dwight’s face and run his tongue along the indents on his bottom lip. “Can you come to the breakroom? I need to talk to you,” the bespectacled man inquired, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. Jim’s stomach cramped uneasily and he turned back towards his redheaded friend, desperate for an excuse only to find her watching him with her intense, aquamarine gaze.</p><p>“<em>Go,</em>” she mouthed and his emerald eyes widened in shock. Jim shot her a desperate look, his gaze imploring, but Pam wasn’t swayed and the messy-haired brunette cowed almost instantly. In the end, Jim allowed Dwight to lead him into the breakroom.</p><p>Pam watched the two of them leave, waiting until Dwight had shut the door behind them before she started scooting her chair backwards. She worked to angle herself so that she was able to view Dwight and Jim through the window with relative ease. She really should consider taking that class on lip reading at the community college.</p><p>***</p><p>Dwight shut the door behind him with a soft click before pivoting to face his younger co-worker. His mouth suddenly became dry and ashy, as though he had eaten a handful of dirt. He steeled himself, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.</p><p>“Jim--”</p><p>“Dwight--”</p><p>They both started speaking at the same time, stumbling over each other’s words like two dancers tripping over one another’s feet.</p><p>“I’m sorry--”</p><p>“It’s just--”</p><p>Their words collided together again and they recoiled like boxers who had tossed a punch at the same time.</p><p>Jim made another attempt to say something, but Dwight held up a hand to stop him and Jim closed his mouth. “Just let me talk for a minute,” the older man beseeched, staring directly into Jim’s striking green eyes before dropping his gaze to his shoes. His stomach contorted with fear, but he forced himself to push through it. “I want to start by saying that I understand that you don’t feel the same--” Dwight spoke quickly, his words blending into each other. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face and neck heating up. “--and that’s fine, but I just need you to know--” his hands drifted to his head and he started to tug at his hair reflexively, an anxious tic. Dwight was too afraid to look at Jim and too afraid to stop talking, fearful that if he did, he would never get out what he needed to say. “The truth is, somewhere along the way, this stopped being just physical for me.” Dwight admitted, his cheeks stained a blazing scarlet.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>Abruptly, a dam inside of Dwight broke and tears began to cloud his vision, distorting the outline of his shoes. “Jim, I-I love you. I’m in love with you. I--”</p><p>“Dwight,” Jim started to speak, but Dwight could not seem to stop talking, his voice growing more frantic by the second as he surged forward without pause.</p><p>“I understand that you don’t feel the same, but--”</p><p>“Dwight!”</p><p>“--and I’m not trying to force you into anything, but I--”</p><p>“Dwight!” Jim’s stern voice punctured through his aimless rambling like a needle popping a balloon. There was no mistake that he was crying now, hot tears coursing down his cheeks and dripping miserably onto his shoes. Dwight started when he felt a pair of warm hands on top of his own. The older man screwed his eyes closed even tighter. “Dwight, look at me.” Jim demanded, in a hushed tone.</p><p>Dwight shook his head, trying to yank his hands out of Jim’s grasp, but the other man held firm, displaying some of that surprising strength that had defined their first encounter. He pulled Dwight’s hands away from his face and pushed them down to his sides.</p><p>“Dwight.” Jim repeated his name, his voice shaky. Jim cupped Dwight’s cheeks delicately and the older man shuddered at the unexpected contact. “Look at me.” Jim implored, his tone gentle and soft.</p><p>Finally, still trembling, Dwight opened his eyes a crack. As he blinked away the tears eroding his vision, he found himself staring directly into Jim’s emerald eyes, twinkling softly as he gazed at Dwight. A small smile danced around his lips. “I--” Dwight stammered, but Jim cut him off.</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>Dwight blinked. His pale blue eyes were gigantic and round, almost owlish. He was sure that he must be experiencing auditory hallucinations brought on by his grief because there was no way that Jim Halpert had just said what he thought he said. “W-What?”</p><p>“You heard me.” Jim replied, lowly. The younger man’s hands drifted to Dwight’s shoulders and he yanked him towards him. Dwight stumbled forward, landing face first into Jim’s broad chest. Jim’s fingers gently prodded his chin, angling it upward so that he could bring their lips together. Jim slid his hands down the length of his deskmate’s body to his waist, grasping at his hips and pulling him so that their bodies were flush with one another.</p><p>Dwight’s hands automatically sailed to Jim’s hair, his fingers entangling themselves in his already messy russet locks. Somehow, this kiss felt completely different from all the others they had shared over the past couple of months. The undercurrent of lust that surged beneath their previous interactions had been replaced with something else -- something sweet and tender. It was something that may have always been present, but had not been fully acknowledged until that very moment.</p><p>A loud bang against the glass startled them into pulling apart.</p><p>Jim and Dwight turned simultaneously to discover themselves face-to-face with the rest of the office, all of whom had clearly collected to spy on the two of them.</p><p>Pam looked delighted, wearing a wicked grin on her face that made her look more devil than angel. Michael was sucking his milkshake through a straw, his dark eyebrows nearly blending in with his hairline. He resembled a movie-goer who had been utterly surprised by this particular twist.</p><p>Angela looked vaguely disgusted, while Oscar and Kevin were giggling amongst themselves. Jim spotted Phyllis covertly slipping a ten dollar bill into Stanley’s outstretched hand. The Temp had his phone out and was clearly recording the entire spectacle.</p><p>Jim waved at them pleasantly, flashing his co-workers a casual grin whilst Dwight expelled a weary sigh, burying his face in his hands to hide his embarrassment.</p><p>***</p><p>“So,” Jim began, sliding into the black vinyl booth across from Dwight. “Why don’t we consider this a re-do of last night?” he suggested, smiling sheepishly at his now not-so-secret lover.</p><p>Jim had cleaned himself up a little in the bathroom at the office before they left. He ran a comb through the tangled mass that was his hair. It was still messy, but now it resembled his typical bedhead rather than a rat’s nest. He had also taken the time to tuck his crumpled shirt into his slacks and fix his tie.</p><p>Dwight returned his smile, his cheeks suffusing with color. “Okay,” he acquiesced. “Maybe you could try not to get drunk of your ass this time?” the bespectacled man snarked and Jim had the good grace to blush delicately.</p><p>They exchanged a few more affectionate barbs, unable to keep themselves from grinning stupidly at each other like a pair of lovestruck teenagers making heart eyes at one another over a shared malt in a Fifties diner.</p><p>Finally, Jim voiced the question that was on both of their minds, but the two of them had been too anxious to approach initially. “What do we call ourselves? Are we boyfriends now?” Jim asked, smiling shyly. Dwight blushed again, opening his mouth to reply when he was cut off.</p><p>“Hi guys!” a familiar, chirping voice interrupted them. “My name is R--” Randi’s voice died in her throat when she recognized who it was that she was speaking to. Her face fell, her heavily perfected, food-service smile sliding off her face and clattering to the floor at her feet. Randi did her best to emulate it, but her replacement smile was brittle, her wide doe eyes filled with barely suppressed terror. “I-It’s nice to see you again, gentlemen.” the squeaky-voiced waitress managed. “What can I get you two this evening?”</p><p>“You can get me and my <em>boyfriend</em> a strawberry margarita and an Awesome Blossom to share.” Dwight ordered the pint-sized waitress. Jim watched in amusement as Randi’s enormous, fawn-colored eyes darted between the two of them.</p><p>“Actually,” Jim interjected. “I am going to go with a ginger ale tonight,” he corrected, his smile a little weary. His hangover seemed to have passed, but there was no way that he was going to risk another one. “My boyfriend doesn’t think I hold my liquor well.”</p><p>“True.” Dwight acquiesced.</p><p>“A-Alright.” Randi chirped, speeding away from the table as fast as she could go without actually breaking into a run.</p><p>“Boyfriend, huh?” Jim inquired, grinning.</p><p>“Yeah,” Dwight replied, smiling contentedly. “You got a problem with that?”</p><p>“Nope!”</p><p>***</p><p>Jim turned onto the long, winding driveway of Schrute Farms a few minutes behind Dwight and pulled in beside his Trans-Am, putting his car into park.</p><p>Dwight was already out of his car, waiting impatiently for Jim. The younger man watched in amusement as his boyfriend bounced eagerly on the balls of his feet. Once Jim got out of the car and shut the door, Dwight grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the towering farmhouse, nearly yanking his arm out of the socket in his enthusiasm. Jim could not help but laugh. The atmosphere was completely opposite the night before. Happiness bubbled in his stomach and his cheeks were beginning to ache from smiling so much.</p><p>A couple of months ago, Dwight Schrute was just his annoying co-worker. The most aggravating man in Scranton. Now he was in love, in love with an extremely eccentric man whose idiosyncrasies he found both profoundly irritating and incredibly endearing. Jim allowed his newly minted boyfriend to tug him into the house and guide him up the stairs to his bedroom. Dwight slammed the door shut behind them.</p><p>The instant the door clicked shut, Dwight kissed Jim hard on the lips. He slipped his fingers underneath the younger man’s tie and tugged it loose. He began frantically undoing his buttons as top speed. The messy-haired brunette smiled into his lover’s kiss, catching his partner’s busy hands and pushing them down.</p><p>“Slow down.” Jim murmured into his lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured him, releasing his hands. Jim slowly undid Dwight’s tie and pulled it off, tossing it aside casually.</p><p>“I’ve never known you to be patient.” Dwight sniped, reaching out to undo the remainder of Jim’s buttons and tugging his shirt open to reveal his bare chest and taut belly with just a hint of visible abs. He splayed his fingers across his boyfriend’s flat stomach, admiring how solid and warm his skin felt beneath his fingers.</p><p>“Hmm,” Jim responded, pulling Dwight’s shirt open and pushing it down his shoulders. He kissed his neck, nipping at the tender skin below his ear. The older man whimpered as Jim worked his way down his shoulder. Jim paused so that he could hook his fingers underneath Dwight’s undershirt, tugging it upward. The older man lifted his arms in order to allow Jim to yank off his tank top and fling it aside to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. “I am allowed to be sentimental.” Jim argued, returning his mouth to Dwight’s bare skin, pressing a line of delicate kisses along the length of his shoulder. “After all, this is my first time making love with my boyfriend.”</p><p>Dwight blushed hotly, his heart swelling in his chest. He pivoted his head so that he could brush his cheek against Jim's, prompting him to turn his face so that they could kiss again. Dwight’s hands drifted down Jim’s chest to his waistband, swiftly undoing his belt. He broke the kiss. “<em>Make love</em>,” he scoffed into Jim’s smiling lips. “You’re such a girl,” he teased, kicking off his shoes.</p><p>Jim moved to loosen Dwight’s belt. “I’m not the one who made a dramatic declaration of love in the breakroom.” Jim chided, a sly smile playing around his lips. Dwight flushed at the memory. His first instinct was to push Jim away in embarrassment, but instead he grabbed Jim’s narrow hips and tugged them into his own, rubbing their clothed erections together. Jim hummed his approval.</p><p>“I never got to hear it back.” Dwight pointed out, his hands traveling down the length of his partner’s back to his ass. He gripped him through the fabric of his slacks, his fingers digging possessively into Jim’s tight behind. Jim turned a little red himself, biting his lip shyly.</p><p>Dwight thought that his heart might stop beating. Who knew that Jim Halpert could pull off adorable and coy?</p><p>The tousle-haired brunette looped his arms around his sapphire-eyed deskmate’s waist. Jim leaned his head back slightly so that he could look Dwight directly in the eye, his deep sage gaze glimmering in the soft light of the farmhouse bedroom. “I love you.” Jim said, his voice quiet and totally absent the teasing tone to which Dwight was accustomed.</p><p>Dwight blinked, speechless. Throughout their years together, Dwight had heard a lot of emotions in Jim’s voice: annoyance, frustration, smugness, playfulness, but never this -- this level of unmasked sincerity. He felt a warmth spreading from his heart and filling his chest with a pleasant fuzz of affection. He kissed Jim again and squeezed him tightly. The younger man’s searing hot skin felt as though it was burning his own.</p><p>Jim broke the kiss. “I love you,” he repeated, pressing a gentle peck into his boyfriend’s forehead. Dwight blushed harder. “I love you.” Jim murmured, placing another light kiss on his cheek. He moved backward towards the bed, falling back onto the mattress and pulling Dwight down on top of him. Dwight landed on top of his body roughly, but he barely noticed the pain because he was too busy being emotionally overwhelmed by the entire situation. As recently as the night before, Dwight could not fathom any scenario in which he might have an actual relationship with the man beneath him and he was dizzy with excitement.</p><p>Jim took the opportunity to flip the two of them, pinning Dwight to the mattress, looming above him. Without being instructed to do so, Dwight moved to shimmy his pants and boxer-briefs down his hips. The younger man moved to help Dwight, jerking his slacks off of his legs and slinging them somewhere in the room. Jim shed his own pants and boxers unceremoniously.</p><p>He adjusted his body so that he could place fluttering kisses down Dwight’s bare chest, moving towards the soft flesh on his stomach. Jim hovered over Dwight’s hard-on, his hot breath ghosting over the other man’s shaft. The dark-haired man’s cock was already achingly hard, the veins standing out clearly, pulsating with blood. A thin strand of precum connected from the tip of his erection to his stomach.</p><p>Jim swept down, enveloping the head in his mouth and swirling his tongue around the tip. He admired the way Dwight’s breathing hitched, his cock throbbing against the roof of his mouth. The younger man worked his way down his partner’s length, eliciting a breathy moan from Dwight, his body shuddering with pleasure. Jim splayed his hand across Dwight’s bare stomach, preventing his hips from bucking upward and tilting his head so that he could swallow more of the older man’s dick down his throat.</p><p>Dwight’s mind was beginning to cloud with pleasure, any rational thought becoming quickly overwhelmed by the heady sensations traveling down the length of his cock. His hand shot to Jim’s head, digging his fingers into his messy, chestnut hair. Dwight’s face was flushed and sweaty, his breaths escaping in harsh pants, chest heaving with each inhale and exhale. Dwight peered down at Jim, grateful that he hadn’t removed his glasses yet so that he could see him clearly.</p><p>Jim looked beautiful. His eyes were closed, his long, dark lashes brushing against his cheeks. Jim’s lips, wrapped tightly around his member, were wet and impossibly pink, even in the moonlight. His hallowed cheeks were enticing. Dwight was overwhelmed by the love he felt for this man.</p><p>The tousle-haired brunette bobbed his head, coating Dwight’s manhood in a slick layer of spit. Jim wrapped his fingers around his stiffness, stroking him in time with the movements of his head. Each time Jim swallowed Dwight’s dick, he dragged his fist up the length of his member to meet his slick lips. “<em>Jim,</em>” the older man moaned his name, his hips stuttering into Jim’s soft, warm mouth. He gripped Jim’s hair tighter, tugging hard as he started to come undone.</p><p>Jim hummed, sending vibrations down the length of Dwight’s penis that sent a shudder of pleasure up his spine. Abruptly, Jim pulled off of his dick with an audible <em>pop</em>. Dwight expelled a piteous whine as the cold air hit his aching member.</p><p>“Where’s your lube?” Jim asked, his voice coming out in a lustful wheeze. Dwight reached over to his nightstand, tugging one of the drawers open and retrieving a small bottle of lube, which he shoved into his boyfriend’s waiting hands. Jim uncapped the bottle and squirted a glob onto his fingers. He set the bottle aside and moved his mouth back to Dwight’s erection.</p><p>A salacious moan tore from Dwight’s throat as Jim once again trapped him in the glorious heat of his mouth. Jim’s lubricated fingers glided down the length of his balls to the pucker of his asshole. Jim gently pushed his middle finger inside his tight hole. He pumped it roughly for a few moments before adding more fingers. Dwight released a needy mewl, thrusting himself down onto Jim’s slender digits as they penetrated him. The younger man increased the speed of his head, thrusting his fingers in tandem with the motion of his mouth and tongue.</p><p>Jim curled his fingers inside of Dwight, hitting the spot that caused the older man’s vision to white out and he bucked his hips upward into the tantalizing heat of Jim’s talented mouth. Dwight heaved for breath, each gulp of air like fire in his lungs. He fisted the sheets, his body going rigid as his orgasm overwhelmed him, hitting him with the force of a freight train.</p><p>Dwight cried out. His senses were flooded with an electric surge of pleasure that was centered just below his stomach. Dwight could feel his cock twitching, spurting thick jets of cum down Jim’s throat. His body shuddered as he came down off his high, transforming into a trembling mass of nerves.</p><p>Jim pulled off of Dwight’s cock. He rubbed his mouth clean with the back of his hand as he admired his handiwork. He was fairly sure that he would never tire of watching Dwight come undone for him like this.</p><p>“You’re so cute.” Jim heard himself saying as he crawled up the length of Dwight’s body to pepper his face with tiny kisses.</p><p>When Dwight finally came down from his post-orgasmic high, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck and tugged him downward. He connected their lips in a long, languid embrace, tongues tangling together. Dwight broke the kiss and breathed, “<em>Fuck me</em>.”</p><p>Jim shuddered. The neediness in Dwight’s voice traveled directly to his hard cock, the shaft pulsating with fresh blood. “Gladly,” he replied, throatily. He reached for Dwight’s glasses, sliding them off of his face and gently placing them onto the nightstand. Jim picked up the bottle of lube and squirted some more onto his fingers and slicked up his length.</p><p>He positioned the tip of his cock at Dwight’s entrance, bracing his arm next to his head. Jim locked eyes with the man underneath him, stunning green meeting brilliant blue. In one swift movement, he pushed himself halfway into Dwight. “<em>Fuck,</em>” he swore sharply. He paused for a moment, nearly overcome by the maddening heat of Dwight’s ass. After he regained his composure, he worked himself in further, far gentler than he had been the night before. “You’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice raspy and needy. He clutched at the sheets, huffing out a harsh breath as he withdrew slightly before plunging his entire length into him.</p><p>Dwight gazed up at Jim, utterly transfixed by the way the muscles in his face and jaw tensed as he thrust into him. He repeated the motion, drawing a mewl from Dwight, who reached down to grab Jim’s ass, blunt nails digging into the tender flesh of his boyfriend’s behind.</p><p>The younger man nestled his face against his partner’s, the tip of his nose brushing against Dwight’s cheek, his breath scorching as it glided along his skin. Jim picked up the pace of his thrusts, driving into him with quick, sharp snaps of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the tiny bedroom mingling together with haggard pants and moans.</p><p>Jim grabbed Dwight’s leg, lifting it up in order to angle himself so that he could grind into him deeper. The head of his cock grazed Dwight’s prostate, drawing a surprised gasp from his lungs. Jim pistoned into him, the younger man’s hips stuttering against his thighs. He pressed sloppy kisses into the column of Dwight’s neck. He dragged his tongue along the surface of his skin, the salty tang of the older man’s sweat sharp on his tongue.</p><p>Dwight was starting to get riled up again, his dick rising off of his stomach, trembling with desire. Another sharp thrust caused Dwight to see stars and he whimpered, his voice mixing with Jim’s as the latter groaned into his skin. The younger man’s hips snapped against Dwight’s thighs he drove his cock deep into his boyfriend, his thrusts growing rushed and harried. “<em>Dwight</em>.” Jim growled his name through clenched teeth, a clear warning. Dwight’s hands explored the expanse of Jim’s back, fingers grinding into his broad shoulders as he held on tightly.</p><p>Jim sunk into the hilt before finally tipping over the edge, letting out a strangled moan as he spilled into Dwight’s ass. The sound of Jim’s moan combined with the sensation of the younger man filling his ass with searing hot cum caused Dwight to come undone. His stiff cock, trapped between their stomachs, became overwhelmed by the friction and their combined body heat.</p><p>His second orgasm hit unexpectedly, like a punch to the gut. Dwight shuddered, a tingle traveling down the length of his spine. A high-pitched, keening whine pushed past his lips.</p><p>When they both finished, Jim pulled out of him slowly, his arms trembling with exertion as he tried to keep himself upright. He rolled off of Dwight, flopping down hard next to him and expelling a satisfied sigh. The two of them lay in silence for a while, their panting breaths mingling in the dark.</p><p>Tentatively, Jim slid his hand, still a bit sticky with lubricant, over and slipped it into Dwight’s, lacing their fingers together. The other man responded by squeezing his hand lightly.</p><p>“Did you ever think that it would end up like this?” Jim asked.</p><p>Dwight scoffed. “Of course not!” he replied, incredulously. Jim laughed softly. “You’re cocky. You don’t apply yourself. You spend all your time playing pranks--” the older man rambled and Jim just laughed harder. “--but,” he paused, his voice growing quiet and his expression thoughtful. He turned to face Jim in the dark and Jim turned as well so that they were face-to-face, their features heavily shadowed in the moonlight that was drifting through the farmhouse window, bathing the room in a pale, white light.</p><p>“But?”</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>Jim gave him a gentle smile. “You annoy the hell out of me, do you know that?” the younger man asked, gesturing wildly at the ceiling with his free hand. Dwight frowned. “You’re overbearing. You’re so uptight you’re practically a robot. Not to mention utterly inflexible. It drives me up a wall, but--”</p><p>“But?”</p><p>“I love you, too.”</p><p>The two men smiled at one another in the darkness.</p><p>Maybe the entire thing had been fate, kismet. A pair of men, spectacularly different in almost every way, paired together randomly as a sales team at a mid-range paper supply company. It was not necessarily a love story for the ages, but somehow still perfect.</p><p>Dwight yawned dramatically, stretching his back and pushing himself up into a sitting position. “I need a shower,” he complained, getting to his feet. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and headed for the door.</p><p>Jim leapt to his feet. “I’ll join you,” he said, tailing Dwight out the door.</p><p>
  <strong>END</strong>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <strong>EPILOGUE</strong>
</p><p>“I don’t understand why we have to do this.” Dwight complained, folding his arms over his chest and puffing out his bottom lip like an angry toddler. “Why is it even HR’s business?”</p><p>“Well,” Toby replied, trying his best to sound gentle. “it’s corporate policy that you register your relationship to HR and it’s not exactly a secret, considering the pictures.”</p><p>That made Dwight wince. The Temp had e-mailed photographs of the two of them in the breakroom to a couple of guys in the warehouse and from there it had been spread throughout the company grapevine at lightning speed. He was not embarrassed that people knew that he was dating a man, but rather the notion that the entirety of Dunder-Mifflin was now privy to his personal life at all.</p><p>“Toby,” Jim interrupted, “Can you please make a note that it was <em>Dwight</em> who made the first move?” he asked, causing his boyfriend’s neck to swivel towards him in order to glower at him. “He threw himself at me.”</p><p>“That’s a lie!” Dwight protested, flustered. He spun back around to his balding co-worker. “Toby, don’t write that down!” the bespectacled man ordered. Toby could clearly see Jim biting back laughter. Old habits, he supposed.</p><p>“Let the record show that Dwight K. Schrute approached me wearing nothing but a banana hammock and a tie--”</p><p>“Jim! Stop that! Toby--”</p><p>“--he called me a modern day Adonis and begged me to--”</p><p>“<em>Jim!</em>”</p><p>“--and I think that it should be noted that he told me that I was the b--”</p><p>“<em>AUGHH!!!” </em></p><p>Toby expelled a tired sigh. “I just need you to sign these waivers,” he mumbled, without much conviction. He expelled another exhausted sigh and continued to watch the two men bicker with mild interest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had never seen The Office before this past year. I know that it’s crazy to think that someone who was still in High School when this show was on air never saw it until now, but I was very busy in the South Park and Naruto fandoms and thus somewhat blind to other media at the time.</p><p>I ended up watching Michael Schur’s shows in reverse since I saw Parks and Rec and Brooklyn 99 way before I ever saw The Office. I had expected to like Jim/Pam like everyone else. I am not sure what drew me to this pairing. I hadn’t really thought about ships, but when I was bored, I decided to search the AO3 tag for the show and came across the pairing. Once I saw it written, I realized that it was that frenemies to lovers dynamic that I really enjoy. Next thing I knew, I was writing it myself.</p><p>I am not usually fixated on positions/roles in couples, but in the case of this pairing I am absolutely adamant in my belief that Jim is a teasing, pigtail-pulling, top. I know it’s common in fandoms to make the younger, cuter of the two the bottom, but Dwight is all about authority and though he wants to rise up in the company, he’s also obsequious and deferential to more dominating personalities. This may all just be my own personal preference. I don’t really care. I think the tag needs some more Top Jim paired with Bottom Dwight and I’m here to provide some self-indulgent content.</p><p><b>Edit:</b> Since this story has been going well I started a Jwight Discord server. Anyone who wants to join can message me.</p><p>Thanks for reading. xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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